Diner Daze
by Tattered-Petals
Summary: Derek Morgan, a drifter who never stays in the same place for long, wanders into a diner during his travels and meets Spencer Reid, a genius young waiter who intrigues him. As fate would have it, Derek might just stay put for longer than he'd originally expected. AU. M/R
1. Chapter 1

Derek Morgan had his duffle slung over one of his shoulders. The hot sun beat down onto his skin, and caused beads of sweat to roll down his face, they paused momentarily as they attempted to weave their way through his untamed facial hair. The man's clothes were worn thin, too much exertion and they'd rip right in two. He walked with trembling legs, all the strength he used to have in them had seemed to vanish. He was hungry, and tired.

So when he saw a diner, no matter how crappy and slowly falling apart it seemed, he let out a breath of pure relief. He hadn't eaten in awhile, and he felt the effects in the worst of ways. The heat had begun to get to him, too, and being out in the hot sun with no water made it a million times worse. He was dizzy, had a headache, and he was practically seeing stars.

He only had chump change in his pocket, and his wallet contained enough money to get him a few nights in a crap motel, nothing more. He never carried around more than he needed, no matter how much of a comfort it would bring him. He'd given up comfort a long time ago.

~.~.~.

The diner was a wreck. The color scheme was awful. Weird mustard colored wall paper peeling off the walls, a jukebox that looked like it no longer worked sat in a corner about to collect dust, and all the workers looked just about miserable. Most were old, the woman who greeted him had her hair long since go gray, and her eyes were old and weary, yet she still mustered up a smile to greet him with, so he pleasantly returned it.

"Just one, sweetie?" She asked him, she sounded almost surprised. Derek was surprised himself that she did, given his appearance. He didn't exactly look like a women magnet, not like he normally did, anyway. He had been in need of a shower.

"'Fraid so, sweetheart," he replied. She raised her eyebrows at him, surprised by the endearment. "Not enough beautiful women like you to go around," he sighed sadly, and then flashed her one of his big grins. The woman let out a small laugh, and fluffed her hair.

"Well, you're one of _those _ones, aren't you?" She inquired, one hand then rest on her hip. "Honey, I had enough rides with guys like you back in the day. Let me tell you, one more time and I'd throw my back out."

He chuckled, it felt good to have an almost friendly conversation with someone. The people on the bus ride he'd taken weren't exactly kindly. "You know what they say about getting right back on the horse, darling."

"Honey, you aint no horse, you're more like a stallion," She said, and Derek let out a louder laugh that time, head thrown back. "It'd take a lot of yoga for me to get stretched out enough for that kind of ride again."

"Well, no day like the present," he suggested with a wink. She let out a little laugh and shook her head at him.

"You get any sweeter with me, and I'll have to find myself a new set of teeth," she told him, and he laughed again. "Come on, let's get you a table and free piece of pie."

"Free piece of pie?!" One of the guys behind the counter asked in shock. He had beads of sweat that covered his body, and Derek suddenly hadn't felt so bad about his own appearance anymore. "Delilah, sweet talkin' is all it takes to get on your good side?"

"Sweetheart, you aren't a stallion. Hell, you aren't even a pony ride," the woman, Delilah, shot back at him, and the man held a hand to his chest in mock insult. Delilah shook her head and turned back to Derek. "Server will be with you in a moment, doll. Eat up, you're going to get too thin."

"'Course, don't want you breaking me later," he continued to flirt. It eased his anxieties, eased his feelings entirely on the situation he was in. Delilah merely shook her head and let out a small laugh as she walked back to the front of the diner.

Derek picked up the menu. He hoped Delilah was right about his free apple pie, it sounded better than sex at the time.

After a moment of glancing at his menu, he felt a presence at his side. His duffle was at his feet, and when he looked up he saw the boy, who must have been his server, staring at it with interest. Derek raised a brow at him, and waited for the boy to realize he'd been noticed.

The kid finally looked up at him, and met his eyes. He flushed slightly when his gaze was met. "Hi!" He greeted suddenly, not the chipper voice of the servers Derek was used to. Of course, this kid wasn't the typical server you got at any place he'd been at. He was also certainly one Derek hadn't expected to see in a diner like that. He was much younger than the rest of the staff, with long hair that must have been killing him in the heat, lithe lengthy fingers that grasped a pad and pen, thin frame, and pale skin. But the thing that caught Derek's attention the most? How undeniably pretty the boy was. "Are you ready for your order?"

"Heard something about some free apple pie," Derek told him, and the kid smiled. Derek glanced at his name tag "Spencer" it read. Huh. He liked it. "How bad of an idea would coffee be for me right now?"

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "Studies show that drinking caffeinated drinks in moderation doesn't actually cause dehydration...but I'd get some water."

"How about both?" Derek asked, although he knew deep down it was a terrible idea. He should stick to one drink, and one drink only. He didn't know if he could charm Delilah into free beverages, as well.

"Alright," the kid agreed easily enough, he started to write down the order in the pad. "One free apple pie, that I can't believe you got, one coffee, and one water," Spencer read the order out loud.

"Give him the water free!" Delilah called from her post, and both Derek and Spencer whipped their heads to look at her, Spencer in surprise. "He can get that from the tap. The man needs a drink or he'll die."

"Gotta keep me running steady, eh, Delilah?" Derek called back to her, and the woman just laughed.

"Don't think I've ever seen her smile so much," Spencer said quietly in bewilderment. He gave Derek a small smile. "So the water is on the house."

"Apparently so," Derek confirmed with a grin. "So I guess just the coffee I'll be paying for."

"Nothing else?" Spencer inquired. Derek cocked his head to the side in question. "I mean, when is the next time you'll be stopping for food?"

Derek sighed, and ran a hand through his still persperating scalp. His tiredness and lack of interest in life seemed to smack him right in the face again. "Don't know. Was hoping to settle around here for a few nights," he answered. "Know any bad motels, kid?"

"Bad motels?" Spencer asked in confusion.

"A bad motel is a cheap motel," Derek replied. "I need a cheap one."

"Well, as for bad motels, there are plenty, as far as cheap ones, there's one right down the street, just keep going straight and you should get there in around fifteen minutes," Spencer advised him. He looked at Derek, almost in concern. "Will you be staying for long?"

"Afraid I don't really know," Derek answered honestly. "Depends if I can get work around here."

Spencer nodded, and then looked back down at the pad. "I'll go put in your order," he said softly.

Derek smiled at him. "Thanks." He reached up to flick at the name tag. "Spencer."

"No problem," Spencer said, and waltzed off back into the kitchen area. Derek shook his head, what as the kid doing working there? Was the local McDonalds not hiring?

~.~.~.~.~.

Derek was just about halfway done with his coffee when a plate that held a large burger, all the fixings, and fries was set down in front of him. His eyes widened and he looked up at Spencer, who fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. "Not that I'm complaining, kid, but this isn't what I ordered."

"No," Spencer agreed. "It isn't. But it's a meal. Apple pie is a dessert," he said reasonably.

Derek just shook his head. "I gotta be straight with you, kid, I can't pay for this."

Spencer shrugged. "Consider it handled."

Derek looked at him in bewilderment. Did anyone at the diner care about making a buck? "Don't need charity, kid."

"It's not charity," Spencer said, as though Derek was ridiculously stupid. "It's a burger. A free burger. Would you really turn down a free burger?" Spencer looked at him expectantly, and Derek couldn't help but laugh.

"Guess that would be pretty stupid, huh?" He asked, and Spencer nodded in agreement. "Alright then." He slid the plate closer to him. "Thanks." He smiled brightly at Spencer, who just shuffled modestly. Kid couldn't have much money to him if he was earning pennies in a joint like that. "Care for a seat?" Derek asked and gestured across to the other side of the booth. "You can pick at my fries."

Spencer shook his head. "I'm working." He looked surprised by the offer.

"No offense Spencer, and I really mean no offense, but uh…" He leaned in, and Spencer followed suit. "I'm the only customer here."

Spencer cast a look around the diner, and must have realized that Derek was right. "I-uh...still have to-."

"Play cards in the back with Jim and Bob?" Derek asked sarcastically, and Spencer just crossed his arms and looked at him. "Come on, take a seat. You look beat."

Spencer raised a brow. "_I _look beat?" He asked in wonderment. "Have you been unable to locate a mirror lately?"

"You trying to tell me I look anything less than gorgeous?" Derek asked in mock offense, and watched as Spencer rolled his eyes. He simply continued to grin. "Come on, take a load off, world won't fall apart. Besides, I've barely had human contact in weeks." Spencer's face softened at that. "Have some pity for your elders."

Spencer let out a laugh as he slipped in across the booth from Derek. "My elders?" He asked in amazement. "_Please. _You're probably not much older than I am."

Derek just smirked back. "For all you know I might just have amazing silky smooth skin." Derek said. "Besides, come on, the beard makes me look old."

"Unkempt," Spencer replied. "Not old."

Derek gave him a look, but then couldn't stay offended for more than a second. "I'll take what I can get," he replied. He picked up the burger and took a bite, savoring the flavor as he shut his eyes. He hadn't eaten a good meal for far too long.

"Glad you enjoy it," Spencer said happily, and Derek slowly let his eyes slit open. "You know the origins of the hamburger are actually pretty interesting. It was first created in America in 1900 by Louis Lassen, a Danish immigrant, owner of Louis' Lunch in New Haven, Connecticut. Of course, there have been rival claims by Charlie Nagreen, Frank and Charles Menches, Oscar Weber Bilby, and Fletcher David. White Castle traces the origin of the hamburger to Hamburg, Germany with its invention by Otto Kuase. However, it gained national recognition-OW!" Derek had been staring at Spencer, bewildered, until Delilah had cut off his rant with a smack to the back of his head.

"Let the man eat his burger," she reprimanded, one finger pointed at Spencer, who was rubbing the back of his head. "None of your genius boy nonsense." She then turned to look at Derek. "I apologize, honey."

"No harm no foul, sugar," Derek said, recovering quickly. "Never thought I'd learn so much about a burger."

"Well, since Spencer here got a job I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about anything." She shook her head. "Kid knows how many kernels there are in an average cob."

"800," Spencer confirmed, and Derek went back to staring at him. "Arranged in sixteen separate rows."

Derek turned his head to look back at Delilah for an explanation. "Genius," Delilah explained. "Can you believe it? A genius working at a hellhole like this."

"You're a genius?" Derek asked Spencer, and the boy shrugged modestly.

"I don't believe intelligence can be accurately quantified," Spencer replied. "But I already have two PhDs, working on another, an IQ of 187, and can read 20,000 words per-minute." Derek just continued to gape at him as Spencer sunk down in the booth.

"Now, tell him your age, kiddo, don't be shy," Delilah urged him on. Spencer looked up at her pitifully, but she moved her hand in a continuing motion until Spencer hung his head in defeat.

"Eighteen," Spencer said.

Derek whistled lowly once he'd overcome his temporary shock. "Well," he said as he took a sip of his coffee. "Just when you thought you'd seen everything."

"No kidding," Delilah agreed. "I've had four babies, three husbands, and a whole life I've lived and I've never seen anything like him before." Delilah shook her head. "He's a good pit stop in between your travels. Trust me, they don't make 'em like this anywhere else."

"I'm just going to pretend you're complimenting me," Spencer said.

"I'm still stuck on the three husbands," Derek said, and smirked at Delilah, who waved him off.

"Honey, keep sweet talkin' me and I just might make you my forth," she warned him.

"Run while you can!" One of the guys screamed from behind the counter. "She takes 'em and breaks 'em!"

"If I ever got anyone as sweet as you, I wouldn't mind being a broken man," Derek said to her as he looked her up and down. The guy behind the counter groaned in distaste.

"You see?" Delilah gestured to Derek. "This is a prime example of what a man should be! I'm having you call up my ex-husbands."

"With pleasure," Derek said. "Must be fools to let go of someone as fine as you."

Delilah just grinned and then turned to look at Spencer, who scooted over a little bit in fear. "You best be giving him good service," she said.

"I am, Ma'am!" Spencer assured her. "He wanted me to sit, I promise!"

"Then you sit," Delilah ordered, Spencer nodded rapidly. "In this case, the customer is always right." She nodded towards Derek and then once again walked back to her post, although it seemed useless. No one was coming their way.

Derek just grinned at Spencer, who continued to look at Delilah with fear. "Genius, huh?"

"I already explained that," Spencer muttered. He looked at Delilah out of the corner of his eye again. "Thought despite all that, I can't put together how you managed to get Delilah wrapped around your finger."

"It's easy, kid," Derek answered. "To get someone wrapped around your finger, you make them think you're wrapped around theirs."

Spencer turned back to look at him in surprise, he seemed to take the words in before he merely nodded. Derek could tell he didn't really get it, but that was fine. "So, what's a genius doing working at a diner?"

"A genius still needs money," Spencer answered, and shook his head when Derek offered him a fry. Derek just slipped in his mouth.

"But a diner? _This _diner?" Derek asked. "The tips must suck."

"I'm being lectured in money by a man who couldn't afford a burger," Spencer said, bemused. Derek just pointed a fry to him, almost threateningly.

"Do as I say, not as I do." He held his arms out widely. "I look like the type of guy you want to model yourself after?"

Spencer considered him for a moment, and Derek could have sworn he saw the kid do a quick scan of his body, before his eyes flickered to meet Derek's. "You do have a pretty nice beard," he answered lightly, Derek momentarily lost his composure as he laughed. "You've also got Delilah giving you free meals. Your life doesn't seem half bad right now."

"Ah, yeah, take out the sweat and the malnutrition, and I'm living the dream," Derek joked lightly, but he saw Spencer's face cloud with regret. "Don't even. You start looking at me with pity and I might get so insulted I'll walk out without the apple pie."

"Trust me, you don't want to walk out without the apple pie," Spencer said seriously. "It's delicious, and for just today, free."

"Can't turn down free apple pie, my Mama would be ashamed of my manners," Derek answered easily with a small grin at the mention of his Mother. He saw Spencer pick up on it right away, saw the boy stare at him analytically, as though he was a book Spencer was studying. It made him uncomfortable, but he refused to show it. He wouldn't be intimidated by a boy who could have a strong breeze knock him on his ass.

"So, what do you do?" Spencer inquired. "For a job," he clarified. "You said you're looking for work in the area."

Derek shrugged, and wiped his mouth with the plain white napkin. Why mess with a classic, he guessed. "Remodeling, usually," he answered. He'd proceeded to sweep some of his crumbs off of the cool, yellow, surface and into the napkin, when he realized Spencer still stared at him. His explanation apparently hadn't satisfied the curious younger man. "I like to fix up houses, when I can. I do whatever work comes my way now, though. Best at fixing things." He shrugged. "I like fixing things."

"Probably because it satisfies you," Spencer suggested. Derek looked at him oddly. "Sometimes we feel helpless, and like we do no good, it's nice to see something you're visually making better."

Derek just shook his head, though he was still amused. "Never would have expected to walk into a place like this and get psychoanalyzed by a miniature genius."

"Miniature?" Spencer asked in offense, and Derek fought back a grin. "You do realize I'm taller than you, right?"

"How would you know?" Derek asked, although he knew the genius was correct. "We haven't done a back to back."

"I saw you walk in," Spencer said triumphantly. "I'm taller."

"Still tiny," Derek said, his eyes averted to Spencer's tiny little wrist. Spencer frowned and tugged down on his shirt sleeve insecurely, which made Derek momentarily regret the teasing. "Eh, don't worry about it, Spencer, ladies are starting to dig the lithe guys."

"Please do inform me when that craze starts to infect this area," Spencer said dryly. "I don't think it has reached here yet."

Derek chuckled. "Problems with the ladies, huh?" Spencer just flushed, probably regretted that he brought it up. "I wouldn't stress it. Work on the genius talk, keep your pretty face, and you'll have girls falling to their knees."

Spencer raised his eyebrows, and his mouth popped open in shock. "Pretty?!" He asked. He sounded more shocked than insulted.

"Sure, pretty. You're a pretty guy. A pretty boy, in fact," Derek said with a grin. "Just tone down some of the burger facts." If it was even the ladies that Spencer was going for, that was. Derek couldn't help but think the kid was eyeing him with far too much appreciation. Not that he minded. Was a great compliment that in his state he could still bring out some form of attraction. Even if the attraction came from a tiny little genius who moonlighted as a diner boy.

Spencer seemed to just let the comments roll off his back, though there was still a slight heat to his cheeks. He looked torn as to whether or not to take Derek's remarks as an insult, or as a compliment. He seemed to plead the fifth on the issue, and change the topic. "So, you like fixing houses, huh?"

"Mhm," Derek hummed, his lips connected to the rim of his coffee mug as he slurped the delicious drink greedily. His water rest beside it, ice nearly melted and drink neglected.

"There's this woman, Mrs. Warren, she's a wealthy lady who just bought a project house," Spencer informed him, and Derek set his drink down to lean in with interest. He stared intently as Spencer continued on. "She's looking for someone to fix it up for her, doesn't know what she's doing. Probably trying to get it on the cheap, but money isn't really an issue for her. You might be able to get some work there," Spencer advised him.

Derek looked at him, the appreciation on his face hadn't even begun to express the appreciation he felt on the inside. "That sounds great, Spencer," he said earnestly. "Any idea the address? Or her number?"

"I have both memorized," Spencer replied easily, and pulled out his pad of paper and his bright blue ballpoint pen. He tucked his tongue in between his teeth, so it slightly pointed out of his lips, as he quickly scribbled everything down, and handed it over.

Derek looked at the piece of paper in his hand, the scribbled address and phone number, and released a sigh of relief. "I owe you a lot if this works out in my favor, kid."

"If it works out, just buy me a burger and we'll call it even," Spencer drawled sarcastically, but Derek just continued to stare at the paper.

"Well, Spencer, looks like if this works out I just might be staying here for awhile yet."

Spencer grinned, almost proudly. "Well, then I should probably go get you a piece of celebratory apple pie," he said as he gazed at Derek's empty plate. Derek just nodded. "Drink your water," Spencer ordered as he picked up the plate and walked away.

Derek just shook his head as he looked up from the paper to see the young man walk away. First stop he'd made, and he'd already met the most interesting person he could have imagined.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer was right. The apple pie _was _truly amazing. It was warm, with just the right amount of cinnamon and a dollop of real whipped cream to top it off. The crust was flaky, but not overcooked, and it honestly almost brought tears to his eyes. It tasted like home.

"You like it?" Spencer asked with excitement, as though he was second-hand eating the pie. Derek could only muster up an approving moan. "English apple pie recipes go back to the time of Chaucer, you know? The 1381 recipe lists the ingredients as: good apples, good spices, figs, raisins, and pears! The cofyn of the recipe is a casting of pastry. Saffron is used for coloring the pie filling," Spencer told him cheerfully, yet almost absentmindedly, as though he hadn't a clue how strange his apple pie knowledge was.

"Good apples, huh?" Derek inquired. "Well, kid, I think you did this pie wrong, then." Spencer frowned in concern, and gazed at the pie as though he was looking for a visual flaw. "These are _great _apples." Derek had to resist rolling his eyes at his own corny joke, and felt like a complete loser, so he was even more than shocked when Spencer actually let out a loud laugh that made him throw a hand up to cover it slightly. Derek just watched in amusement as the last of the laugh tapered off into a wheeze.

"An IQ of 187 and you just laughed at a stupid apple pie joke," Derek said in disbelief. Spencer just continued to try to regain his bearings, obviously still pitifully amused. "Hey, Spencer, these aren't good spices…" He trailed off and lay in wait.

"They're _GREAT _spices," Spencer finished, like an excited kid, and Derek found himself laughing as he scooped up a small dollop of the whipped cream and swiped it on Spencer's nose, he watched in amusement as he went cross eyed.

"Come on now," Derek urged him on. "Aren't you going to tell me who invented whipped cream?"

"I get the sinking feeling you don't really want to know," Spencer said, and swiped out a napkin to get the cream off of his nose. Derek was tempted to put more on, but held back the temptation. It might have just been the complete lack of decent human interaction, but he was feeling happier than he had in a very long time.

"Mmm...wasn't it invented only a couple years ago or so?" Derek asked, and tried not to let the mischief he felt show in his eyes, as he saw one of Spencer's twitch. "Invented by a...Frank? Was it Frank? Pretty sure it was Frank."

"Whipped cream, often sweetened and aromatised, was popular in the 16th century," Spencer blurted, unable to take the purposeful incorrectness of Derek's "facts" any longer. "With recipes in the writings of Cristoforo di Messisbugo, Bartolomeo Scappi, and Lancelot de Casteau. Believe it or not, it was called milk snow. A 1545 English recipe, "A Dyschefull of Snow), includes whipped egg whites, as well, and is flavored with rosewater and sugar," Spencer finished with a pointed glare at Derek's amused face.

"Milk snow, huh?" Derek mused. "We should go back to that. I like it more."

Spencer smiled a little bit again. "It sounds nicer, but it makes less sense," he replied. "Whipped cream is a lot more of a logical title for it."

Derek shook his head. "Traveled all this way to talk about the logical aspects of whipped cream." He took another bite of the heavenly pie, and savored the taste. "Life barely even seems real right now."

"Where are you from?" Spencer asked with interest. He was a curious little thing, Derek had come to realize. He probably wasn't invasive, or at least didn't mean to be, but he just liked to know everything.

"Everywhere," Derek answered cryptically. At the sad look that had come over the kid's face at the lack of information Derek was willing to divulge, he cracked slightly. "Chicago originally." The man seemed contemplative on that fact. "What about you, Spencer? Always hang your hat up here?"

Spencer shook his head, long hair flapping ridiculously. "I'm from Las Vegas Nevada, originally," he said.

Derek was in for yet another shock that day, and had to hold himself back from allowing his jaw to literally drop to the floor. "_You're _from Vegas?" He asked.

"'Course he is!" One of the other guys called, obviously he'd been listening in to their conversation. Derek assumed with the lack of other customers, the people at the diner must be quite the busy bodies of the single consumer. "He's a royal cheat at cards!"

"It's mathematics and statistics!" Spencer called back at him indignantly.

"You want statistics?! You're 100% full of shit!" The guy called back at him, and Spencer's and Derek's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, Larry," Delilah snapped at him. "Still it with the language. You're the reason we have no customers."

"Oh, yeah, I'm the reason!" The guy, Larry, replied back sarcastically. "Because this place just reeks with appeal!"

"Well, what you guys don't have in appeal you make up for in good food," Derek told Spencer, and gestured to his plate.

"Yeah, we do, but sadly appeal is normally what people care about," Spencer said sadly, his fingers drew odd designs on the surface of the table, and Derek watched it as though he was in a trance.

"Yeah, appeal is usually what drags people in, isn't it?" Derek asked, and waited for Spencer to reach his eyes before he winked. Spencer just smiled shyly in return.

"Well, Spencer," Derek begun, and felt an odd sense of regret build in his chest. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to get going," he said. He could have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure Spencer looked disappointed, as well. "How much was the coffee?"

Spencer just flipped his hand carelessly. "Don't worry about it," he said.

Derek leveled him with a look. "I told you, I don't take charity."

"I'm not going to get worked up over a bit of change," Spencer said stubbornly, arms crossed over his chest.

Derek dug into his pocket, and threw some change onto the table, it probably equaled two bucks, more than the coffee even was, most likely. "Then consider this a tip." When Spencer looked as though he was about to protest, Derek held a hand up to silence him. "You live off this stuff. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Spencer paused for a moment, before he nodded and scooped up the change into his palm. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Not a problem." Derek stood up, and smiled down at the young man. "If this works out for me." He held up the piece of paper. "Looks like I'll be seeing you around." Spencer actually beamed back up at him with that. Huh, he guessed he maybe did grow on the kid.

He was about to walk out, after he gave Delilah a kiss on the cheek, but he was halted by Spencer. "Wait!" He called, and Derek turned around. "What's your name?"

"Derek," he replied. "Derek Morgan."

~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer Reid had been working at the diner for awhile. It wasn't like it was his favorite job in the world, he would have much preferred a job with books, but at some point you had to take what you could get. Even if it only put a pitiful amount of change in his pocket.

The day after he'd run into to Derek...Derek Morgan, he was cleaning up the counters. Not taking any crumbs off, not really, mostly just taking away the dust that had built up. He had to sigh sadly, it was a shame no one really came in. They'd get travelers every once and awhile, like Derek, well...not like Derek at all. The travelers were usually mean spirited, and would have never requested Spencer to sit down with them and have a conversation. No one had ever asked Spencer to do that.

He'd felt his cheeks warm up when he remembered Derek telling him he was pretty. He hated to admit to himself that he'd spent the night prior mulling over if it was an insult or a compliment. It was odd, coming from anyone else he'd assume he was being mocked, but coming from the kind drifter? Spencer couldn't help but feel flattered.

Of course, flattery was a dangerous weapon, and the inclination for kindness he felt towards Derek might have been solely brought on by his charm. They always charged travelers, if they didn't they wouldn't make anything. But Derek? Derek was different. He'd even seemed to thaw Delilah's cool heart.

It was hot in the diner, as the AC struggled. It was summer, and normally during the summer he would have head back home...but home was no longer home. Not since his Mom had been admitted. He no longer had family to rush home to, check on, make sure they were doing okay. He was too much of a coward to even visit her in the sanitarium, all he could manage was to send her a letter a day. His most recent one had been on Derek. How pathetic he was, his life so dull that all he could write about was a drifter who wandered his way into their diner. Though, he supposed his Mom might have felt pride in the fact that he'd helped the man out. Given him the name of a motel, a free meal, and a possible job.

"That was a kind thing you did yesterday," Delilah told him. She stood beside him as he cleaned up the counters. He looked to her in inquiry. "Giving that man the lady's address and number. Helpin' him get a job. It was sweet."

Spencer shrugged in a dismissive fashion. He watched as the soapy cloth left little bubbles in its wake. They popped at random, sometimes they'd leave tinier bubbles behind. "He looked like he needed a good break."

Delilah snorted. "Don't we all," she replied wistfully.

"Don't we all," Spencer agreed as he eyed the plain diner. The horrible clashing colors, the machines that didn't work, it made his heart ache. He'd heard stories of once upon a time. Back when the diner was in its full glory. He would have loved to have seen it.

"Best be careful, though, kiddo," Delilah told him seriously, and Spencer looked at her in confusion. "Falling off a stallion is a lot more painful than not getting on the horse at all."

Spencer eyed her in complete confusion. "Huh?" He asked.

Delilah just smiled at him, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, I've lived longer. Men like that? They're there for a few months, and its grand, but sooner or later that stallion will want to run free."

"I don't understand why you're telling me this," Spencer said, still perplexed.

Delilah just smiled, boldly pink painted lips cracked with the movement. "Because I care," she said cryptically.

Spencer was about to say something else, but the door to the diner flew open to reveal Derek. Spencer instantly let go of his cloth, more excited than he ever thought he would be to see the man again, especially since he was grinning.

"Derek," he greeted. "Can I get you something?" He asked. He wanted to smack his hand into his forehead once he realized he really should have seated him and offered him a drink first.

"Actually, kid, looks like I'm going to be getting you a burger sometime soon," Derek said, smile triumphant and eyes alight. Spencer's own face split into a grin as the meaning of the words came back to him. He flew out from behind the counter.

"You got the job!" He said with excitement. Much too much excitement for a man he'd only just met the day before.

"I got the job!" Derek confirmed.

"Well, then, let's forget the free pie," Delilah said, her hands clasped together. "Today you're getting a free slice of cake, your choice!"

Spencer's jaw nearly dropped, free pie and now free cake? Delilah should have saved her warning for herself. "Go for the chocolate," Spencer whispered to Derek, who he then stood next to. "Always go for the chocolate."

"A little birdie told me you've got some fine chocolate cake," Derek said, with a grin tossed next to him at Spencer, and then back to Delilah.

"Only the best!" Delilah agreed joyfully. "Liam! Whip the man up some chocolate cake! We're celebrating!" She then looked to Spencer. "Ah, what the hell, whip up two of 'em! The kid needs to eat more!"

"It's fine!" Spencer assured her. "I don't need-."

"Come on, kid," Derek said, and whacked him in the arm. "What's a celebration without a little cake?"

Spencer caved, and only a little while later he was once again seated with Derek, at the very same booth, a slice of chocolate cake in front of each of them. He laughed some more, enjoyed the conversation, and once again felt his heart ache when Derek eventually left.

He hadn't been able to pinpoint the exact feeling he'd gotten. All he knew was it was a strong feeling of loss. But he'd surely take the loss over and over again, so long as he got the same joy that had come over him when Derek walked back into the diner.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek sighed as the water that shot out of the shower head washed all the sweat and dirt off of his body. He'd been working long days in an attempt to fix up Mrs. Warren's house. Spencer wasn't kidding when he said it was a "project home", the entire house was just about a wreck. Part of him almost would have seen it to be more useful to take wrecking ball to it and start from scratch, but he liked the challenge.

Not only that, but the pay was pretty damn good. The woman came from money, and her husband made even more than where she came from. He owned a share of a technological empire, so money wasn't really an issue. Derek gave her his price, and she easily agreed to it. She seemed apprehensive about the fact he didn't have a crew, and he was just doing a one man job, but he assured her that he could work faster and more efficiently than any crew she could ever hire, and he probably had double the experience. He wasn't sure whether to credit it to his charm, or just really good luck, but he got the job.

Really, above all else, though, he credited the fact he got the job at all to Spencer. Spencer who'd given a complete stranger a free meal and a way to earn himself some cash, not to mention directions to the nearest motel. To top it off, the motel wasn't half bad, either. He'd certainly stayed in worse places. One place seriously had dirty drug needles stuck into the carpet, and odd stains left on the sheets. He'd learned not to be picky.

But at the motel he was then staying at? The bed was a bit hard, but not unbearable, none of the lights flickered, the carpet was clean, and the water pressure wasn't half bad.

Meanwhile, the house he was working on was still a nightmare. There was obviously no air conditioning, so he had to work while he sweat his ass off. Sweat constantly poured from his brow, dribbled down his face, stained the light shirt he'd worn. But it didn't matter, he'd worked in worse conditions for a lot less money. _A lot _less.

He'd fix the house up some more, then some guy with electrical would have to come in and deal with the rest of the stuff. Derek hadn't even claimed he could do any of that.

Mrs. Warren had give him a pretty penny upfront, which Derek used to help pay for some more time at the motel. He would have had to worry more about how much money he spent if he wasn't still getting free meals from the diner.

Derek Morgan hated to be a charity case, and he promised himself that once he was ready to leave he'd earn back enough money to pay off the debt. Or at least, he would one day.

Besides, Derek hadn't forgotten his promise to a young genius about buying him a burger. He'd just finished up his first stage in house renovations, and he had enough money in pocket to feel comfortable with spending some.

The last thing Derek had ever expected to do when he'd walked into town, dirty and sweaty, was to make himself a friend. But, he concluded, that's probably what Spencer had ended up being. Every damn time he went into the diner he was insistent on the boy joining him for a meal. Even if there were other customers, Delilah would send someone else to deal with them so Spencer could sit and talk to Derek.

Derek had to admit to himself that he and Spencer were opposite sides of the coin. They were almost nothing alike. Yet, Derek never really tired of talking to the young man. Sure, the kid could go on for hours if someone was to let him, but after awhile it almost stopped being annoying, and soon had become almost endearing. Spencer was a man full of passion, intelligence, and probably more strength than Derek originally credited the skinny little stick.

Spencer was a complicated person, but conversations with him weren't. They seemed to flow easily. So long as they steered away from certain topics, such as personal lives, Star Trek, Star Wars, and Doctor Who. Not that the last three commonly bothered Derek, but they were talked about far too often, and far too fast-paced, for his liking. Psychoanalyzing Star Wars wasn't quite on his agenda, nor was how factual the build of the death star. He'd let him go on for five minutes before he finally pleaded for mercy.

"Fine," Spencer had said, a slight pout on his face, arms crossed over his chest. "All a person needs to know about Star Wars anyway, is that Han shot first."

Derek smiled again at the memory as he shut his shower off. The spray going from fast and plentiful, to slow and steady, to a drip that never ceased. It hadn't bothered him much, at least, not as much as the family of crickets that lived outside his window. Spencer had informed him the life cycle of a cricket usually spans no more than three months, along with other facts that, given his current situation, weren't exactly helpful.

No matter how much Spencer seemed to go on, Derek couldn't find it within himself to dislike it. Sure, it got annoying and one time he'd shoved a french fry in his mouth to get him to stop, but he didn't know what he'd do if Spencer stopped talking to him...and that thought was dangerous.

~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer hummed a happy tune as he cleaned up some dirty plates from a table. An elderly couple had been eating there, and had barely touched their food. The man complained the burger to be too overcooked, and Spencer tried to resist a smile as Larry ranted on in the kitchen about how the man apparently wanted food poisoning. Not to mention Spencer knew he'd grow even more furious when he found out that they had barely touched their cookies. If Spencer wasn't so cautious towards germs he would have nabbed a few for himself.

It said a lot that he continued to hum as he brought the dishes to the back, where Larry threw his hands up in the air in anger at the sight of the cookies, and still when he saw the elderly couple had only left him a twenty-five cent tip.

"That isn't going to pay any bills," Delilah said in distaste as Spencer thumbed at the quarter. He merely shrugged, and continued to hum his tune. "Stallion hasn't road his way in here yet today," she observed, and Spencer frowned a little at that.

"I hope he's okay," Spencer said. "He usually always comes in for breakfast. Free hash. Savors that alone for an average of five minutes and twenty-two seconds. Longest it ever took him was ten minutes and eleven seconds." He looked at the door, and hoped he didn't look as wistful as he felt.

Delilah looked at him in bewilderment. "You mean to tell me you calculated how long it takes the poor man to eat his breakfast?" She asked.

"To be fair, I know how long it takes for all of you to eat lunch," Spencer replied, he tried not to wear his amusement on his face. Delilah just shook her head.

"You're one of a kind," Delilah told him. "Just haven't figured out what kind yet."

As though Spencer had willed it, the door swung open to reveal Derek Morgan, and Spencer tried not to smile too big. He hadn't really ever quite had a friendship like the one he was sharing with Derek, the man wanted to talk to him every time he entered the diner. His only other friend was Ethan, and he hadn't spoken to him since he'd left Vegas.

"Pretty boy!" Derek called to him, big grin on his face, freshly showered. He was always happier freshly showered.

"Ah, and so he arrives," Delilah said, and accepted a peck on the cheek from Derek. Spencer had to wonder if it was some odd form of payment for the food. "We haven't seen much of you today, sugar. Was starting to think you'd grown sick of us."

"Grown sick of you, sweetness? That type of illness would put me six feet under," Derek drawled, a playful grin on his features.

Delilah snorted, and whacked him on the arm. "Derek Morgan you're bad for my blood pressure." She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Any more trouble from you and you might have to talk to my doctor."

"Maybe I should. You see, I've been getting these strange heart palpitations, that only seem to happen when I'm around you," Derek flirted, and Delilah whacked him in the arm again. Derek playfully winced and grabbed it. "Why must true love always hurt me so?

"You want true love? Go pick up a fairy tale book," Delilah quipped at him. "Or go have a seat with Prince Charming, I'll make sure they get started on your usual."

"I'm Prince Charming?" Spencer asked in surprise. That was certainly a new one. He could not pinpoint a moment in his entire life he'd ever been referred to as that.

"Actually, my Queen, Prince Charming is the one getting an order put in tonight." Derek pulled some bills out of his pocket and waved them in the air. Spencer felt his eyebrows shoot up and a small smile tug on his face, looked like Mrs. Warren was paying him well. "As paid for by the King of the Land, baby. Looks like you're finally getting that burger, kid," Derek said with triumph.

"As happy as I am for you, you do realize you don't actually have to get me the burger, right?" Spencer inquired. "It was just an off the cuff remark."

"Nuh-uh, no backin' out on me now, kid. You, me, and a burger. Make that two burgers, actually, I'll have one myself," Derek ordered, and Delilah just nodded her head along with him in amusement. "Also for dessert, one great big slice of your fine apple pie, and another of your fine as wine chocolate cake. Two coffees, you know to put every ounce of sugar you've got in this joint in the kid's." Spencer rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance, it was one time. "Make sure the burgers have all the fixings, along with a big 'ol bucket of your fries. Sweet potato ones for your man right here, regular for the young man to my left, and a big juicy garlic pickle on the side. Think you can remember all that, darling?"

"My memory hasn't quite gone yet," Delilah said dryly. She looked as though she was trying to resist a smile as she looked at the two men that stood in front of her. "I'll go put the order in to the kitchen."

Derek nodded his head in affirmation, and Spencer followed suit as Delilah took off in the direction of said kitchen. Derek then turned his million dollar smile to Spencer, and gestured to the booths. "Shall we sit?"

"We shall," Spencer agreed easily enough, he and Derek always sat in the same exact booth they'd sat in the first day Derek had shown up. Apparently neither up for the change. "Don't tell me you actually expect to pay for all that," Spencer said as he sat down on his side of the booth, it creaked slightly at his weight.

"Do I look like the kind of man to go back on a promise?" Derek asked, arms spread out wide. He cracked another smile before he sat swiftly down on his own side.

"I don't ever recall you promising apple pie," Spencer said. "Or chocolate cake, for that matter."

"Hey, youngster, half of each are mine," Derek warned him. "Didn't your Mama teach you any manners?"

At the mention of his Mom, Spencer stiffened, his expression became clouded, and he could tell Derek picked up on it right away, although the man said nothing. He probably figured it wasn't the time for damage control, especially when he didn't exactly know about the damage.

"Yeah," Spencer responded once he'd snapped out of his stupor. He'd momentarily been sent back months prior to when he had his Mom admitted. The look of betrayal on her face, how she pleaded with him to let her stay… "She taught me a lot of things. She was a college professor."

Derek's face clouded in sympathy, and Spencer frowned in confusion. He couldn't think up a reason why having a college professor as a Mom would be bad. She taught him almost everything he knew about literature.

"Past tense, huh, kid?" Spencer's eyes widened in shock.

"No!" He shouted out, and Delilah whipped her head around to look at their booth in confusion. Spencer flushed and just mouthed out 'sorry' to her. "She's still alive. I just haven't seen her in awhile." Spencer shrugged sadly, almost with shame. When he met Derek's eyes though, he found understanding.

"Yeah," Derek said. "Me either." A small smile formed on his face, not one of his usual kind, but a small fond whisper of it. "Haven't seen my sisters, either. They're gonna kick my ass when I finally resurface."

Spencer brightened at the comment of his sisters. "You have siblings?"

"Yeah," Derek answered, bemused. "Why? Looking to get in on our gene pool?"

Spencer didn't understand the implications at first, but when they dawned upon him his cheeks were once more tainted scarlet. It had been hard to embarrass him previously, but with Derek Morgan it seemed to be a common feature of their conversations. Part of him felt Derek took some type of sadistic pleasure in his discomfort. "N-No! I just...didn't know you have sisters."

Derek just smirked at him, and gave a quick thanks to Delilah as she set down their steaming cups of coffee. Derek's had a dollop of whipped cream atop of it, and sprinkles. Spencer's was delivered with extra packs of sugar, and a drizzle of caramel on top of it.

"Yeah, I got sisters," Derek responded after he'd taken his first sip of the heavenly beverage. Heavenly by Spencer's definition, anyway. "Two of them. What about you? Come from a family of geniuses? Just how many microscopes did Santa deliver on Christmas day?"

"Just one," Spencer said, he took the teasing in stride as he took his own sip of his drink. "I'm an only child."

"Huh. So what about your parents?" Apparently personal boundaries were slowly starting to vanish. Though, Derek had been coming into the diner for around a month, so Spencer had to admit that maybe they'd taken a little while longer than usual. "Geniuses as well? Or were you a shock to the system?"

Spencer just grinned a little bit. He remembered his Mom telling him about the first time they'd learned he could read, she said she'd nearly fallen out of her chair, and that tears had sprung to her eyes. Soon thereafter they realized they were dealing with a child of above average intelligence. Since he'd started answering math questions aloud that he saw on the television.

"They're both highly intelligent, but I was a bit of a shock. Well, at least, from what I recall my Dad was. He was a lawyer, might still be," he stuttered around talk of his Dad, and saw Derek pick up on it instantly.

"Might still be?" Derek inquired gently, and Spencer winced.

He might as well let the cat out of the bag, it's not like _he _had anything to be ashamed of. "Haven't seen him since I was ten," he tried to say it casually, but he was nearly positive that bitterness leaked into his voice. "Took off. I don't know where he is." At the look of sympathy on Derek's face, Spencer felt the intense need to try to correct the conversation. "A-Although I'd assume he'd remain a lawyer. You know, the bar exam is very stressful. Statistically-."

"Sorry about your Dad, kid," Derek cut him off, his voice steady and his eyes still sympathetic. Spencer smiled awkwardly back at him. "Damn fool to walk out on you. But judging by what I've learned of you, you've gotten the last laugh."

Spencer felt inside his chest warm up at the kindness of the words. He shrugged. "Depends, I guess. I don't know if he really wanted a genius for a son."

"What else could he possibly want?" Derek inquired.

"A kid who could actually play sports," Spencer answered grimly, and saw Derek try to withhold a smile. "It's not funny! I one time foul tipped a ball into my own eye!"

Derek laughed outright at that, and Spencer tried to resist his own urge to smile. The memory was altogether unpleasant. His Dad tossed the ball at him, Spencer had attempted to hit it, but it had managed to get foul tipped into his own eye. His Dad had just frozen as Spencer tumbled to the ground in pain. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon with a frozen bag of peas on his eye, while his Mom ranted on about the dangers of sports.

"Well, hey, look at me. I'm great at sports, and I don't exactly think I'm the ideal son," he said it with good humor, but there was an underlying sadness that slightly broke Spencer's heart.

"You're a good man," Spencer said firmly, reassuringly. "Hard working, honest, a Mother should be proud to have you as a son."

"Don't think I don't appreciate your conviction, kid, but you don't know how long it has been since I've called my Mama," Derek said sadly. Guilt tainted every word.

"I...I like to think parents forgive those things," Spencer said slowly, weakly, almost. "The good ones, anyway. They see the good in us." He looked at Derek. "There's a lot of good in you."

"You haven't known me for too long, Spencer. There could be a lot of bad in me, for all you know."

Spencer shook his head. "I refuse to believe that."

"You've got to see past just the good in people, kid," Derek said firmly, the intensity in his eyes caught Spencer off guard. "If you only see the good in people and ignore the bad, you're going to be in for a world of pain."

Spencer just met his gaze, and drawled dryly, "Is this when you reveal to me your part-time job as a serial killer?"

Derek's lips quirked slightly, but he tried to keep his expression unreadable. "You never know," he replied. "Handsome stranger waltzes into a diner one day. Duffle on his shoulder, covered in sweat, he gets a room at a crappy motel. Not sounding off any alarms?"

"None."

"None?"

"Complete and utter silence."

Derek shook his head. "You're going to end up getting into such trouble, kid." He snorted. "I just hope your future career doesn't include you making judgements of character. What do you want to do, anyway?"

"...Work for the FBI…"

"...Seriously?"

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Derek wiped the sweat from his brow and groaned. The heat just seemed to get worse and worse. It wasn't so much the heat as it was the humidity, but at some point it didn't matter how you looked at it, it all just sucked. The only thing that seemed to get him to smile at all was to remember the meal he'd had with Spencer the night prior. It had been about two weeks since he'd bought the man a burger, and their friendship seemed to have improved tenfold since. He wasn't quite sure if it was the littlest peak into their personal lives that had helped it, or just time itself, but he couldn't imagine getting through the job without seeing Spencer. Didn't know how he had before.

It was the hottest day of the summer, and he could feel it all over his body. He kept recalling some advice Spencer had given him on staying cool in the heat, but none of it was quite working, and he wasn't bringing a portable fan with a battery in it just to blow sawdust around the house. Spencer's reaction to that had been to huff and tell him he was going to die of heatstroke...which he then proceeded to give him the statistical probability of. The freakiest part? He'd actually listened to it.

"You know, they should consider solar panels," a familiar voice mused, and Derek damn well nearly fell on his ass at the sheer shock he felt from it. What had happened to his instincts? He used to be able to hear a person shift a mile away. "They'd look really nice on the roof. They have a lot of good uses for them, too. Of course, the average solar panel size that the average home needs to power it is 600 square feet. Not to mention the fact that would, on average, cost $55,000. If they have the money, though, you might want to suggest it."

"Uh-huh." Derek slowly looked the man that now stood in front of him up and down. Did he even own shorts? He was in khakis, and a short sleeved dress shirt. He didn't look comfortable at all, and his hair was slicked back with gel and sweat. But the thing that caught Derek's attention the most? The little basket he carried with one hand as his eyes searched around the room. "That's great and all, Spencer, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you that you'll get a heat stroke," Spencer said with distaste, effectively ignoring Derek's question. "You should have brought a fan."

"Could you not just say hello and answer the question?" Derek asked in annoyance, his eyes still on the basket. "What the hell is that?" He finally asked as he gestured to it.

Spencer looked down at the basket, as though he'd seen it for the first time. "Apparently we now deliver," he informed him, and Derek raised both his eyebrows. "Delilah doesn't think you're eating enough."

"Delilah is my dietitian now?"

"You're an active male between the ages of 19-30, you should be eating 3,000 calories a day," Spencer informed him as he continued to move around the room to observe it, he seemed careful not to touch anything.

"There's probably those many calories in the pie alone," Derek replied lightly.

Spencer scowled. "There most certainly is not."

Derek chuckled, his former annoyance had dissipated. "If she should be worried about anyone not eating enough it's you." Derek gestured to him.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Despite my lithe form, I keep up with my nutrition exceedingly well."

"Uh-huh, sure. How about physical activity?"

"You do enough of that for the both of us."

"Uh-huh, sure." Derek shook out his shirt and groaned. "We should eat that quick, before the food spoils. It shouldn't even be possible for it to get this hot."

"The hottest temperature ever recorded on the surface of the earth was on July 10, 1913, it reached 134 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer said absentmindedly.

"Yeah, well, if it ever gets that hot then I'm moving to Alaska," Derek replied with conviction, he heard Spencer chuckle. "Come on, let's eat outside. There must be shade somewhere."

"There are trees," Spencer said, his eyes still scanned the room, always the curious one. Derek had to stop a fond smile from tugging its way onto his features. "Where there are trees, there is shade."

"Really Einstein? You have to be a genius to figure that out or can anybody try?"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

"Be nicer if there was a breeze," Derek said as he squinted up at the sky through the branches of the large tree they sat under. Spencer was seated right next to him, he munched happily on the sandwich as if the heat wasn't close to melting his brain.

"Be even nicer if there was a fan," Spencer returned, and Derek lightly thumped him on the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Don't be a wuss," Derek replied with a smirk.

"Me?! You're the one complaining about the heat when there were obvious methods you could have taken to prevent your suffering!"

Derek just flapped his hand open and closed at him, to show how much Spencer's words meant to him. But just then, a gust of wind that must have been sent by the Lord himself hit Derek's skin, and he closed his eyes and let out a groan of approval as he let his head fall back onto the tree. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Spencer was looking at him funny, his teeth sunken into the sandwich, almost as though his whole body had frozen. "What?" He asked.

Spencer took his bite of sandwich, swallowed much too quickly, cleared his throat and fidgeted around. "Nothing," he replied. "So...um...you always like fixing things?"

Derek looked at him in disbelief at the pathetic attempt at small talk. "Sure…" He shook his head at the sheepish look on Spencer's face, and decided to cut the kid some slack. "Always found it enjoyable, like I said. I like to fix things." He brushed a fly away from his food. "Y'know, there's this one story about my Pops that might make you lose your appetite."

"How intriguing. Go on."

"He one time was fixing something up. My Mama kept trying to tell him to be careful, and he kept replying if he could shoot a gun he could fix this up. Can't remember what the hell he was trying to fix, but I guess that's not the important part of this story. Anyway, he ended up putting one of those long as all hell screwdrivers right through his hand." Derek made a little sound effect to add to the drama of it all, and watched as Spencer's eyes went wide as saucers. "Went all the way to the bottom part of it, which meant he had to pull it all the way back out," Derek continued to explain, and watched as Spencer looked increasingly queasy. "Wanna know what he said next?"

"Do I want to?"

"He told me not to tell my Mama." Derek laughed, and soon enough, Spencer was laughing with him.

"Please tell me you've never done anything that stupid, or I might regret suggesting this job to you," Spencer said through his chuckles.

"Hey! Mistakes happen! You live, you learn. You ever gotten your hands dirty, kid?"

"Dirty? Yes. Ever fixed anything? Nope," Spencer replied.

"I could give you a lesson sometime, you know," Derek offered.

"A lesson on tools from the son of a man who put a screwdriver through his hand? I think I'll pass," Spencer responded dryly, but his eyes were alight with mirth.

"Aww, look at the genius, scared of a little work?" Derek teased him, and watched as Spencer just shook his head, not going for the bait. "Come on, now. I can't tempt you to get all down and sweaty with me? Many girls would love to take your place, pretty boy." He watched as the cheeks heated up from more than just the sun.

"Not winning this one," Spencer sing-songed. "I know my limits, Derek Morgan."

"Ooohhh, full name, huh? Getting feisty with me now." Derek's own eyes were lit with mirth. "You know what that means? That means I'm getting to you."

"You're not getting anything."

"I totally am. I'm getting right inside that genius head." Derek tapped Spencer's head, and watched as the genius playfully tried to pull away.

"You're not getting into _anything_," Spencer taunted back.

"Ouch. First time I've heard that," Derek quipped, and watched in delight as the implications of Spencer's own words dawned on him.

"I sometimes wholly regret becoming friends with you," Spencer replied, and seemed to be fighting his embarrassed reaction, since he had turned his face away from Derek's.

"Uh-huh, yeah, I'm sure," Derek replied back teasingly. "Face it, kid, you would be so bored without me here."

"I would not be," Spencer denied. "I...I would have found a hobby."

"A hobby?"

"Yes. A hobby. A fun hobby."

"Uh-huh," Derek replied back dryly. "What kind of hobby would that be, kid? Counting the dust bunnies at the diner?" Derek joked, and Spencer narrowed his eyes at him.

"We do not have dust bunnies," Spencer responded, unamused. Another gust of wind graced their skin, and this time it was Spencer who closed his eyes for just a minutes, and Derek was the one left staring. The heat had tainted the man's cheeks red, if he flushed again Derek might not have even noticed, there was a light sheen of sweat on him that made him glisten, and he let out a tiny little happy sigh through parted lips. As soon as his eyes cracked open, Derek looked away.

"Sure you don't, kid," he said in a rush, he shoved his mouth with his sandwich as quickly as possible.

There was silence for awhile. An inconsistent breeze, the smell of grass, they both munched on their food with satisfaction. Especially Derek, who had been hungrier than he'd been willing to admit.

"The house is looking great," Spencer told him softly, and Derek looked at him in surprise that then turned to appreciation.

"Thanks," he said sincerely. "I'm working hard on it. You know, I like to buy my own properties," he informed Spencer, who listened intently. "Fix 'em up, sell 'em, but you need money for all that. With the money I'm making from this? I'm thinking I can buy this property nearby. I've had my eye on it, I think I can fix it up into something beautiful."

Spencer considered that, and then a shy, hesitant smile overtook his features. "So...that means you might be here awhile, huh?"

Derek smiled softly. "Well what do you know, I just might be."

"How...um...how long do you usually stay in places for?" Spencer inquired. He sounded as though he was struggling to keep his voice conversational, and Derek attempted to not smile at the fact.

"Depends," Derek replied. "Only planned for this one to be a summer job."

"Did I get you in over your head?" Spencer asked, his voice neared teasing.

"Just a little bit under the water," Derek replied with a grin. "I own a snorkel."

"Prepared for everything, huh?" Spencer inquired.

"Most things." Derek nodded, and looked at Spencer. Almost seemed to scan every feature. Most things, indeed.

"Guess that pays off," Spencer said, and gazed at Derek through his lashes, a little dribble of sweat trickled its way down his face. "It's...um...always best to be prepared for the unexpected."

"Yeah," Derek agreed, he watched Spencer's face, every slight movement he made, every bead of sweat that appeared. "It is."

"You know...I was actually supposed to be working right now," Spencer informed Derek, he'd adverted his eyes away from him, but Derek didn't seem to be able to. "But Delilah gave me the afternoon off to bring you all of this. Kind of crazy, huh?"

"Delilah can be a little crazy," Derek agreed, a small smirk on his face. "But crazy isn't always bad."

"Keeps things interesting," Spencer agreed with a nod and a smile. "Don't know what I'd do if life suddenly became normal."

Derek didn't think there was a statement he could possibly relate to more than that one. "Spencer, you have no idea how much I understand that."

"What brought you here, anyway?" Spencer inquired, as though it was a question that he suddenly just couldn't hold back. Derek winced, he didn't quite like the question. "You said you've lived just about everywhere...was this just your next stop?"

"I guess so," Derek replied with a shrug. He didn't know quite how to explain everything. If he was ready to explain everything.

"How long are you going to keep going?" Spencer asked.

"Until I find what I'm looking for," Derek answered.

"What's that?" Spencer just had to ask all the hard questions. Derek tried not to resent him for it. Spencer's curiosity was a thing that he couldn't quite contain. He had to learn everything. Know everything. Someday Derek hoped he'd learn the most important lesson of them all, that certain things were best left a mystery. Some questions couldn't ever be answered. There weren't enough words in any language to sometimes perfectly articulate how a person was feeling.

"That's a complicated question, kid," Derek responded. That was putting it lightly.

Spencer paused for a moment, lip tucked in between his teeth as he thought. "What you're looking for," he begun slowly. "Do you think you'll find it here?"

"I don't think it's that easy," Derek replied honestly.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It could be."

"It could be," Derek agreed. "But it never is."

"So what?" Spencer asked, his voice confused. "You're going to travel all around the country until you find whatever it is you're looking for?"

"If that's what it takes." Derek nodded.

Spencer looked at him in astonishment. "You do realize that sounds impossibly lonely, right?" He continued to stare at Derek. "I know what loneliness can do to a person, and it's not fun."

Derek just shook his head and looked away. Looked at the other trees, looked at the clear blue sky, another light breeze came their way. "You've got to do what you've got to do, kid," he said. "It's all a person can do."

"What if you go everywhere and never find what you're looking for?" Spencer asked.

"Then I go around again," Derek replied easily. He'd thought of the question himself, except the answer had seemed to come so simply. "As many times as it takes."

"Would you visit your family again?" Spencer asked, and Derek stilled. "If you went around again?"

"I couldn't," Derek said, voice full with guilt and regret. "I can't. Not until I've found it."

Spencer nodded slowly, though Derek knew he didn't fully understand. "What about me?" Spencer asked.

Derek frowned. "What about you?"

"Would you visit me again?"

Derek never expected the question, and he could have never imagined the mixed emotions it would stir up within him. He just stared at Spencer, for one of the few times in his life he was rendered completely and utterly speechless. Tons of responses floated around in his mind, tons of jokes that could possibly get him out of the situation that he'd gotten in to. Tons of ways to laugh it off.

"Maybe you won't have to go," Spencer said softly once Derek hadn't replied. "Maybe you'll find exactly what you're looking for here."

Derek slowly reached over, reached to brush some sweat and gel slicked strands out of Spencer's face. They'd fallen in it a while before, and he'd waited for the genius to brush them away himself, but it seemed as though he didn't even notice.

Their eyes met for a moment, once the strands had been brushed away. They looked at each other intently, and seemed to move closer, slowly but surely, until they were mere centimeters apart.

But as quick as it was cast, the spell broke, and Spencer pulled away, he nearly fell back. "I-I should get back to work," he said urgently as he quickly scooped up all of the wayward items that had surrounded them. "I never meant to distract you for so long, only to get you to eat something."

"Well, you completed your mission, then," Derek replied, his mind reeling from what had almost happened. Unsurety swirled within him, confusion, so many different damn emotions that surely didn't have a name for them.

Spencer just nodded as he scooped everything up into the basket. He went to stand up, but then hesitated. "So, you'll be here for awhile?"

"Looks like I just might be, kid. Got any more picnic baskets?"

A slow, hesitant, smile spread on Spencer's face, and he let out a little laugh. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do."

He left minutes later, and Derek watched him go.

Unexpected, for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek's first kiss with a girl had been...well...gross. At the time he thought he was a complete rockstar. That he totally nailed it; no one could kiss like Derek Morgan. Sure it was wet and sloppy, but that's what all kisses were like, right? No. No, when he looked back at that kiss, Derek realized the complete abhorrent nature of it. He'd tried to use tongue his first time, which was a huge mistake, and it had just been a complete mess. To be fair, though, he was just a kid, and was copying what he'd seen this high schooler do to his girlfriend. The practical application was a lot harder than the theory of it all.

But Derek's first kiss with Spencer? It was a _lot _different. The total opposite, actually. It was quick, and chaste. At least, the first time. The first actual kiss. The second one had been a little longer, but that time he had definitely _not _used tongue.

The part that had surprised him the most was that _Spencer _had kissed _him _first. It was probably the reason the first kiss was so chaste.

Spencer had shown up daily with the damn picnic basket. Derek hadn't even been sure whether or not the kid would talk to him again after the weird occurrence the first time. But he had. Every day. Without fail. He finally admitted that part of it was Delilah's insistence, but that he didn't mind. It was his lunch break, anyway, and the diner didn't have many customers, so the others could handle a little time without him.

It had taken a whole month for the man to finally kiss him. It was the start of August, the sun still hot, but the breeze had begun to return. The birds were chirping and enjoying the new bird-feeder that had been set up. The house had started to come together more as they brought more workers in to do the things that Derek couldn't.

The kiss had caught him off guard. He was just watching the birds, he and Spencer were having a discussion about a new horror movie that was coming out that Spencer wanted to go see. The aroma of apple pie strong in the air. Salt from fries still stuck on Derek's lips, and the kid had just gone for it. Quick. Chaste. If Derek's eyes had been closed, perhaps he would have even mistaken it for a gust of wind, it was that feather light.

After it had happened, Spencer had pulled away, leaned back against the tree, and just stared at him. Derek's eyes had been wide as saucers, completely caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of a lip attack. But Spencer just continued to stare at him. Finally, apparently, he lost his nerve and started to stutter out,

"I'm so sorry. I just thought...you know...you give off these...signals...and I thought that you...I mean...I can totally-." That time? It was Derek who went for it. It was the longer kiss. Still nothing like his first. It was almost...sweet.

Then, when they pulled apart, Spencer had said possibly the cutest thing ever. "Was that...uh...was that okay?"

Derek had laughed.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"TV is fuzzy," Spencer observed. They were both seated on Derek's bed, backs up against the headboard, feet propped up on a giant pillow.

"Never claimed to live in the lap of luxury," Derek replied dryly. He had one arm tossed over Spencer's shoulder, and the other fell limply to his side. Nothing had happened between the two of them on that bed except for sitting. They'd sit, watch TV, and talk absentmindedly. Spencer had finally taken an actual day off from the diner, and Derek had invited him over.

"They could have at least given you a working TV," Spencer replied, a kit-kat was held in his hand, and a little baggy of them rest on the left of Spencer on the bedside table. Right underneath the lamp, which Derek had thought better than to turn on. "It looks like this actress has two heads."

"That actresses' name is Angelina Jolie, man." Derek shook his head in amusement. "How on earth do you not know who Angelina Jolie is?"

"I know of her," Spencer said, indignant. "I just didn't know her name."

Derek just chuckled once more, his chest rumbled with it. He still didn't quite know what to define his and Spencer's...relationship...as. He'd met with people casually where he visited, although, not as often as people would assume given his persona. But he'd never sat in bed with them and watched Tomb Raider while they munched on kit-kat bars and occasionally rambled about occupational employment statistics of carpet installers.

"You're heading back to school soon," Derek brought up suddenly. The topic had been floating around in his mind for awhile. Spencer had kissed him two weeks prior to them plopping down and watching Tomb Raider on a crappy TV. Two weeks.

"Mhm," Spencer hummed, kit-kat shoved in his mouth, and Derek tried not to snort in amusement. Spencer had a serious sweet-tooth. "I think I'm going to stay working in the diner during the school year," he mused.

The two weeks hadn't been unpleasant...at all...actually. In fact, they had been oddly pleasant. Derek had returned Spencer's kiss, and after Spencer had spoken and Derek had laughed, they'd stared at each other for far too long. Spencer had seemed to come back to himself, and tried to make some excuse to get back to the diner, and everything inside Derek had told him to let him go, but instead? Instead he's insisted Spencer stay. They didn't talk about it. That was the part that might have been a bit odd, since Spencer talked about everything, but they'd just watched the birds.

Part of Derek was freaking out. Panicking. Spencer was young. Not to mention male. He was a young male curled up beside him on a bed. It was probably one of the reasons Derek hadn't even attempted to touch him. He didn't even feel like deep down he could with a clear conscious.

"You know, you think loudly," Spencer told him, and Derek glanced at him in surprise.

"Do I?" Derek asked, once again he found himself amused.

"You always have," Spencer said, he'd swallowed the last of his kit kat, and dropped the wrapper in the trash bin beside the bed. "But especially lately."

"Can't just be all good looks and charm, can I?" Derek asked. Spencer actually smiled at that.

"I think Delilah knows," Spencer told him, and Derek simply snorted. Of course Delilah knew. "I think she knew before I even kissed you," Spencer almost said the latter part with pride, as though he was impressed he made the first move.

"Smart woman," Derek responded. "Why do you think she knew?"

"She gave me this weird warning about stallions, and running free, and not staying in places for long," Spencer replied, and looked at Derek intently. Derek tried not to fidget under the focused gaze. "I think she was warning me not to get attached."

"Are you?" Derek asked. "Getting attached, that is." He dreaded the answer.

Spencer just continued to stare. "Are you?"

Well, wasn't that just the million dollar question.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer wished he had friends. Or at least, a really close relative. So that he could ask someone what he was possibly supposed to do. He'd kissed Derek Morgan. Under a tree. In a rich woman's backyard. In front of a valley of birds.

He'd seen some things on TV, and he was pretty sure he'd become a Disney princess.

It had been his first kiss. Or, well, what he considered his _real _first kiss. His original first kiss had been...much less pleasant, and he'd learned not to put himself out there.

Yet he did. He kissed Derek Morgan, and Derek had kissed him back. On the lips. For a _long _time. He felt like an immature schoolgirl with a crush because of how often he'd run the situation through his mind. It was the one thing he couldn't write his Mom about. He didn't feel right doing it; and he didn't even know how to describe it. So he had no one.

Except Delilah. Who obviously knew.

"How was yesterday?" She asked once Spencer walked in for his shift at the diner. He flushed a little bit and immediately made a beeline for the counter where a soapy cloth rest awaiting his arrival. "Nuh-uh, kiddo, you can't run from me," Delilah warned him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer dismissed her as he quickly got to work behind the counter and scrubbed away. "I stayed home and studied."

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?" Delilah asked him.

"Not yesterday," Larry joked, and Spencer bit his lip. "More like 1776, tell me, what was it like when America declared independence?"

"Watch your smart mouth," Delilah warned him, one finger pointed at him. "Or I'll take that cloth from Spencer and shove it down your gullet. Stuff you like a Thanksgiving turkey, I will."

"Ah, so 1621, then, my bad," Larry quipped, and Delilah narrowed her heavily lined eyes. Larry held up his hands in submission. "Sorry, sorry, forgot I don't have the charm and good looks of a certain drifter."

"Nor the charisma," Delilah agreed. "Or the grace, or the dignity, or the smooth mouth of his. Your mouth got you thrown in jail for two weeks, never forget."

Spencer looked up at Larry in surprise, the man stood beside him, he was wiping up his own part of the counter, and shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? I like to use my words. God blessed me with with this mouth, I'm going to use it."

"Oh trust me, you used it. In fact, you used that mouth to kiss Mr. Campbell's ass; that's the only reason you got this job!" Delilah shot back at him. Mr. Campbell was the owner of the diner...a rather silent owner, that was. Delilah watched over things more than he did.

"Well look at that, there's my smooth mouth and charm!" Larry replied, and Spencer just shook his head. "Besides, it's not like this job is hard to get! All you need is name to put on your tag!"

"That's why you kiss his ass every time he stops by the diner, is it?" Delilah asked him. She then bat her spidery eyelashes like mad. "Oh, Mr. Campbell," she impersonated Larry flawlessly, and Spencer's cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk as he tried not to laugh. "What a beautiful tie you have on today, sir! Oh, those shoes! Are they new? Where did you get them?" She glared at him. "That isn't a smooth mouth, that's a kiss-up, pure and simple."

"You think that man doesn't kiss-up to you? Givin' him free meals every damn day, like he can't pay for himself," Larry said with distaste. Spencer froze, and slowly turned his head to glare at him.

"It's called helpin' out other people Larry. Giving. It's something you should try every once and awhile," Delilah told him.

"Oh, yes, you give me a lot. A migraine, most specifically," Larry announced, and Delilah just rolled her eyes and went back to her post.

There was a moment of silence in the diner, and those were always the moments Spencer appreciated most. Where he could just work and think without all the banter that happened amongst the staff. Not that he minded, at least it kept things interesting, but he was used to quiet. Enjoyed it.

"So, you're really goin' out with the muscle man, huh?" Larry broke the silence and further shattered it with his question. Spencer just froze, one arm outstretched where it went to scrub.

"Uh...no," Spencer replied, and Larry just looked at him with disbelief. "Not really."

"Sure. Right. Like Delilah said, kid, I wasn't born yesterday," Larry snorted. "Just watch yourself, alright? Guys like that? They aren't going to stay with you long."

"Excuse me?" Spencer inquired. "What type of guy do you perceive him as?"

"Let's just say this, my Mom married a guy like that once. Real smooth talker. Seemed like a good guy. Charming. Oh so charming, kid. Like you would not believe. Was so excited for him to be my step-Daddy, isn't that unbelievable," Larry said, almost ruefully. "Know where he is now?"

"Where?" Spencer asked, not fully absorbed into whatever conversation Larry was trying to have with him.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Larry told him, and Spencer did look at him then, and saw just how serious his face was. It made him look away once more. "But wherever he is? He took my Mom's money with him."

"Derek is not like that," Spencer said firmly. The thought of that even being a possibility seemed out of the world to him. "He would _never _take my money, even if I had any to give him."

"He's already takin' all our food," Larry said, and Spencer gave him a pointed glare. "Alright, maybe we are forcing it on him a little bit. Hey, but you never denied the fact he's going to leave."

"He might not," Spencer responded, he continued to scrub and not look at Larry, but he belatedly realized he'd been scrubbing the same exact place. "He's looking for something, maybe he'll find it here."

"What? You think you're that something?" Larry asked in amusement, and Spencer stiffened. Larry placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Spencer flinched away from it. "I'm not saying you're nothing special, Spencer. I'd be a fool to say that. But you're not going to stop him from leaving."

"I'm not trying to," Spencer replied.

"Look, Spencer, maybe he's not like my step Father who is living large God knows where," Larry admitted, and Spencer finally graced him with his attention once more. "But he's who he is, and you're who you are. He's going to leave, and when he does, you're going to have to let him go."

"There's nothing to let go," Spencer told him, and picked up his rag, he'd go to the back, see if anyone needed help with anything back there. Where they probably wouldn't bother him. "There's nothing going on."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

"The place gets better and better every time I see it," Spencer told Derek. They sat outside, leaned up against their favorite tree as they talked.

"Should be done in another month and a half," Derek said with a shrug. He smiled at Spencer's compliment all the same. It was always nice to have hard work recognized. "My work, anyway. I notice her bringing more and more people in, guess I'm not moving fast enough," he tried to keep the edge of bitterness out of his voice, he really did. "Not that I mind. She's still paying me an abnormally large sum of money."

Spencer nodded along as Derek talked, but Derek could tell something was bothering him. He'd had his lip tucked snug in between his lips, and his eyes looked as though they were seeing in another dimension. "What's up with you?"

"I need to know what this is." If seven words could have caused a heart attack, Derek would have been pretty damn sure that would have been the time for them to do so.

"Why do you need a name for it?" Derek asked. More because he didn't actually have a name for it, himself. They kissed, and they talked, and that was about it. He didn't know what to name it. It didn't even seem as serious as a high school romance.

"Because everything needs a name," Spencer said logically. "I can't...I can't deal with it if it doesn't have a name."

"Deal with it, huh?" Derek mused. "Interesting choice of words."

"We hang out," Spencer kept talking, probably felt the intense need to. The kid couldn't just let anything go. Everything had to have logic, meaning, something to it. Derek would have been happy just to let it flow. To not have the conversation. "We talk, we watch movies in your motel room and eat lunch, that's fine, that's all friendship. But then I kissed you. That's not friendship. We hang out after I kiss you, and we still kiss, and I think that's a relationship."

Derek flinched at the word 'relationship'. That was the part of the conversation he was _really _dreading. The part where Spencer used the unforgivable word.

"But you don't want to be in a relationship with me," Spencer said, almost sadly, and Derek would be damned if that didn't break his heart.

"It's not a matter of what I want," Derek told him. "It's a matter of what does and doesn't work."

"Then if you don't want to be in a relationship with me, why did you kiss me back? Why have you kept kissing me? You don't act platonic," Spencer pointed out, and Derek closed his eyes in frustration.

"You just have to complicate things, don't you?" Derek asked with a shake of his head, and Spencer just watched him. "Weren't things fine how they were?"

"I didn't know what they were," Spencer replied.

"You could always save the knowledge for the classroom," Derek reminded him. The breeze blew their way, sent Spencer's hair into a haphazard mess. He hadn't put gel in it that day, and it was wavy with curl. Derek liked it more that way. Easier to run his hands through, if he had the desire to do so. "Not everything has to have a textbook definition to it."

"I'm not asking for a textbook definition. I'm not asking for anything perfect or without flaw; I just want something," Spencer told him, his eyes showed almost a type of desperation, and Derek had to look away before he could become sucked in.

"You're just a kid," Derek said softly, and kept his eyes averted from Spencer's. He couldn't look him in the eyes as he spoke, he just couldn't.

"I'm technically a legal adult," Spencer reminded him. "With a brain that well exceeds my age. I'm perfectly prepared for a romantic relationship." He then seemed to realize what he said, and he quickly rushed to mend his mistake. "Or whatever this is."

"You're too young," Derek stuck to his guns and repeated a variation of what he had said moments earlier. Spencer was just a kid. Albeit, a very smart kid, but he was still just an eighteen year old _boy _who worked at a diner to make money through college. Derek probably should have never even returned the initial sign of affection. "Have you ever even been in a relationship before?"

"What am I doing? Applying for a job?" Spencer asked with exasperation. "I have to have prior experience to be hired?"

"So that's a no," Derek snorted. He set his jaw, and looked off into the blue sky. "I don't take advantage of kids."

"Advantage…?" Spencer repeated the word in wonderment, and Derek stiffened. He should have never said that. "Derek…" Spencer said his name softly. "You're not-."

"I have to get back to work," Derek told him, and stood up. "Thanks for the food, kid."

Spencer looked up at him, and seemed hurt, which made Derek have to look away again, and use every single ounce of force in his body to walk away from Spencer.

He was doing what was right, after all.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

It had been a week since Spencer had seen Derek Morgan.

He didn't go back to the house the next day, no matter how much he desperately wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to try to straighten things out, he knew when he'd been dismissed, and he knew when he was no longer wanted. He wouldn't make a fool out of himself, not like he had in high school. He'd grown up. He wasn't a child, not like Derek thought he was.

School would be starting soon, anyway, and in Spencer's mind he wasn't starting off with anything less than what he'd had the year prior. Except for...his Mom. But he still had her, and he still wrote her every single day. His summer didn't close off with any loss, especially since he wasn't sure if he'd ever actually gained anything.

"Caught it bad, haven't you?" Delilah asked him. Spencer looked up at her in inquiry, and she just looked at him with scrutiny. "The bug, kiddo."

Spencer frowned, had he coughed? Exhibitted any symptoms of illness that he could recall? There was a flu bug going around. But he didn't feel as though he had a fever, no cough or sore throat, he didn't have a runny nose...slight headache, though.

"The horrible illness known as heartbreak," Delilah clarified, and Spencer just rolled his eyes and looked away from her. "Caught it a few times, myself."

"I'm not heartbroken," Spencer denied. He'd already cleaned the diner, not even a speck of dust remained, so now all they had to do was wait for a customer to actually show up. Derek no longer did. "Heartbroken means a person suffering from overwhelming distress, or that they're very upset. I'm neither. I'm completely fine."

"Right," Delilah agreed, but she was unbelieving and sarcastic. "If I looked up the word fine in the dictionary, I'm sure your picture would be right there."

"Delilah, seriously, I'm fine," Spencer assured her. He wished he could escape somewhere, but he wasn't quite sure where he could go without Delilah just following him. Not like anyone was going to come in any time soon, anyway.

"You know what, kiddo? You gotta watch the ones with the smooth tongue," Delilah warned him, and Spencer rolled his eyes and groaned. "I'm serious! Experts in the game, they are. You gotta find someone more like you."

Spencer looked at her in disbelief. "Like me?"

"Yeah, awkward, bumbling, even," Delilah said.

Spencer gave her a bewildered look. "Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"Seriously, now," Delilah continued on, despite Spencer's less than amused appearance. "You are the sweet kind, the honest kind. Don't know enough about relationships to really mislead anyone. Bit clingy, though. Dated a few of you."

"Clingy?" Spencer inquired.

"Yeah, attached. Always gotta know where you are. Needy. Cute for the first week, annoying after the first month." At the look of dismay on Spencer's face, Delilah tried to mend up the wound a little bit. "Not saying that's you, hon. Not everyone is their type."

"Doesn't matter," Spencer tried to dismiss it immediately. "It wasn't a relationship, anyway."

"Uh-huh," Delilah said in disbelief. "Okay, honey."

"It really wasn't," Spencer said with earnesty. Delilah's face turned sympathetic as realization hit. "But that's okay. I'm too busy for a friendship, or a relationship. I mean, I'm going for my third PhD, how many people my age can say that? I don't have time for all of this." He shook his head. "He's going to continue working, and I'm going to continue working, and I'm happy for him. Hope he gets to see the world. Travel the country. Whatever it is he wants. I don't have time for it."

"Oh, baby," Delilah cooed in sympathy, and Spencer winced. "How about a piece of heartbreak cornbread?"

Spencer cracked at that moment and nodded his head. "Yes please."

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer had just finished up his third piece of honey-sweetened cornbread. Water rest beside it that he was taking small sips out of, when the diner door swung open. He didn't even look up, there were other servers there that'd treat whoever the customer was.

Spencer took another sip of the cool water, and looked at the basket of cornbread in front of him. Would four slices be too much? Probably not, since he'd skipped breakfast, and hadn't yet eaten lunch.

But his cornbread thoughts were ultimately cut off when a shadow was cast over his booth. He frowned and looked up, his eyes widened when he saw Derek stood over him.

"Hey, pretty boy," the man greeted him casually, and Spencer felt his head spin as he tried to come up with a proper answer. "You know that movie you spoke so highly of?" Spencer nodded back slowly, yes, even his muddled brain remembered that. "It's still in theaters. Been in there long enough that we'll probably be the only ones there." What? "That is, if you could take the night off for a date." Date?!

"Course he can!" Delilah announced before Spencer's brain could fully catch up to the situation. "Nothing to do around here! Certainly not enough for a young adult. He needs some stimulation. She pointed her finger accusingly at Derek. "But not _too _much stimulation," she warned.

Derek winked at Delilah, a grin on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it," he drawled. Spencer just continued to look up at him in amazement.

"Well?" Derek asked him, his grin faltered for a minute, probably at the lack of response Spencer had given him.

Spencer cleared his throat, and slowly made his way to his feet. "Date?" He asked, and Derek hesitantly nodded, his confidence started to slip away. "You're paying, then," he said, and saw Derek's eyes widen, and the grin slowly start to come back in place.

"Am I now?" Derek asked.

"You're paying, and I'm driving," Spencer continued, Derek crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Spencer in bewilderment. "I get to pick our seats. If we sit too close I get a bad headache. You also can't make fun of me when you see me wipe down my seat with a wet-nap, have you _heard _about how many germs are on those things?"

"You wipe down the chairs?" Derek asked him. At Spencer's pointed stare, he held his hands up in submission. "Alright," he agreed. "No jokes from these lips."

"Good," Spencer said. "Then let me grab my bag."

He tried not to let his excitement show.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer munched happily at what was left of the popcorn as he and Derek exited the movie theater. Derek had kept his word and hadn't said a word as he wiped down his chair, although he raised both his brows when he saw Spencer inspecting the wrapper around his straw to make sure there were no visible signs of tearing. He had then settled in beside him, tossed an arm around his shoulder, and had kept it there for the entire length of the movie, occasionally he would toy with a few strands of Spencer's hair.

"So, horror movie fan then?" Derek inquired as they made their way to Spencer's car. "You didn't even flinch once."

Spencer nodded. "Favorite genre," he confirmed. He took out his keys to unlock his car doors. "More of a fan of classic horror, though."

"You mean the cheesy old things?" Derek asked him with a smirk. "Or do you mean things like Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Cheesy old-Derek Morgan how dare you," Spencer scoffed in disgust as he pulled his car door open and got in. Derek rushed to the other side of the car and got in the passenger's side. "You know, those movies terrified people in their time."

"I'm more of a timeless fright kind of guy," Derek told him. "Don't see why you'd like something if it's no longer scary."

"Because Creature from the Black Lagoon is amazing," Spencer replied as he started up his car.

"Creature from the what?" Derek asked, and looked as though he was fighting off his chuckles. Spencer gave him a look of horror. "Sorry! Not a big horror guy! They never really scared me. Besides, that girl in the movie? Why would she run upstairs instead of going towards the front door? It's her own fault she got thrown out of the window."

"Okay, the next time a psycho with an axe comes hurtling towards you we'll see what smart split-second decisions you make," Spencer said in annoyance, but for the life of him he couldn't stop smiling.

"Well, if a psycho with an axe ever comes after me I'll be sure to let you know," Derek responded. "Because I would certainly make better decisions than a horror movie character."

"Sure you would," Spencer scoffed as he started up his car. "You know, fear triggers the immediate effect of a fight or flight response. People have to make an attempt to decide whether they let their fear take control, or make a split second decision to run, or if they fight. It could cause a multitude of different reactions."

"Okay, but after you decided which one to go with, why run for the stairs?" Derek asked.

Spencer let out a groan of frustration. "You're impossible."

"Yet you still agreed to go out on a date with me," Derek replied proudly, and Spencer just shook his head in exasperation.

They drove in silence for awhile, and Spencer contemplated what on earth to say to Derek. While he'd enjoyed the movie, and Derek's company, he hadn't a clue why on earth Derek had suddenly decided to show up and take him on a date.

"Where do you think you're going?" Derek asked him, and Spencer gasped at the sudden voice. It had come right after he'd taken the turn to get Derek back to his motel.

"...taking you back to your motel?" Spencer replied awkwardly.

"Nuh-uh, no way, I won't have it," Derek told him, and Spencer took his eyes off the road to stare at Derek for a moment in wonderment. "You think all I'm good for is some movie date? No way, kid. The night is still young.

"What do you have in mind?" Spencer asked worriedly. He wasn't exactly one to go out and have a night of fun.

"I haven't really had anyone properly show me around," Derek said. "So why don't you tell me?"

"I don't think I go anywhere that you would find a good time at," Spencer admitted. "Just the library and bookstores," Spencer responded and shrugged. "Not exactly date material."

"Well then, buckle on up, pretty boy, looks like we've both got some exploring to do."

God help him.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The night had ended with Spencer curled up beside Derek in bed, as they watched yet another movie on the terrible television. They'd been out the entire night, going around and finding different things to do. There had been an art-walk that Spencer had wanted to look at, and Derek had faithfully followed behind for, and when they really searched deep everywhere, tons of different little things to do to take up their time. The art museum had a free admission for just that day, and Spencer had convinced Derek to go inside of it and look at the art with him. Derek had agreed, and followed him inside. It wasn't his normal idea of a fun date but it was...nice. Different than anything he'd ever really done with a person before. They'd even grabbed sandwiches for dinner from a cute little coffee shop hugged in the middle of the art walk.

"You know, I haven't been clubbing in a while," Derek mused as he absentmindedly watched the television, his hands raked through Spencer's hair once more. He loved the feel of the silky smooth strands as they rubbed up against his fingers.

"Me either," Spencer replied. "Never, in fact." He grinned at Derek, who chuckled.

"Maybe next time," Derek suggested.

"Mmm," Spencer hummed his response, and Derek tried not to laugh at how obviously the idea displeased him. "Maybe." Spencer then froze up in his grasp, and Derek looked at him in concern, but saw the genius had a smile on his face. "Next time?"

"Sure, kid, next time. So long as your home-work doesn't get in the way," Derek taunted, and laughed harder when Spencer hit him in the ribs.

"I missed you this week," Spencer admitted softly. Derek closed his eyes for a moment. "Hope you kept eating."

"Nope, without you I just fell to pieces," Derek joked. But really? It had almost scared him how much he'd missed Spencer's company. When the next day had come and Spencer hadn't shown up, Derek had felt a mix of relief and...and a much less pleasant feeling that he wasn't quite ready to name.

He'd actually had every intention of never seeing Spencer Reid again. Thought over the pros and cons, thought over how big of a mistake it would be to keep up whatever it was with Spencer. It was dangerous, and it was too much of a risk.

But he couldn't do it...and that fact honestly scared him.

"You didn't stop by the diner at all," Spencer continued on. "I think Delilah was going through compliment withdrawal."

Derek snickered and continued to play with Spencer's hair. He'd be damn happy if the kid never put another hair product in it ever again. It was much too nice naturally. "I'll make sure to give her a strong dose to get her back on track."

"She'll love that," Spencer said, almost absentmindedly. His eyes were slowly closing, and Derek wondered if he'd end up falling asleep where he was, snug up against Derek. He also had to decide whether or not he'd mind that. "You know 51% of people said that flattery is the best way to attract someone."

"Can be," Derek mused. "You usually have to put more effort into it, though." He grinned at Spencer. "I'm usually attracted to a big beautiful brain."

"Trying the flattery thing, are you?" Spencer replied, looked up at Derek to show he wasn't buying what the man was selling.

"Maybe." Derek winked, and Spencer rolled his eyes. "I was once seduced by the young genius who used the power of food to reel me in."

Spencer's mouth popped open. "I did _NOT _seduce you!"

"_Please_," Derek scoffed, and enjoyed the baffled and horrified expression on Spencer's face. "Who kissed who?"

Spencer's cheeks heated up. "It was more of a peck," he muttered.

Derek just laughed, but then an odd kind of realization struck him, and he looked down at the young genius. "Hey, when I asked you if you ever had a relationship, you told me no."

"I never actually said that."

"Well have you?"

"...No."

"Does that mean then that…" Derek paused for a moment. "Was that your first kiss?"

Spencer's cheeks heated up more so. "Not quite," he admitted. "But...uh...I guess it depends on what you define as a kiss."

"Well, typically it's when two people press their lips together. I don't quite know how that could get lost in the translation," Derek said dryly, and Spencer glared at him, which made him chuckle again.

"I guess it was my first _real _kiss," Spencer decided.

"What? Your other was a fake one?" Derek inquired, confused by whatever form of logic the genius was using.

"...It's not a good story," Spencer replied with embarrassment.

"I'd bet money on it that I've heard worse," Derek reasoned with him.

"Promise not to laugh?" Spencer asked, and looked up at Derek seriously.

"Cross my heart," Derek promised.

"Alright," Spencer sighed. "I was twelve years old in high school...and...uh...I wasn't exactly well liked," Spencer explained awkwardly, he wiggled awkwardly next to Derek, fidgeting. "I was bullied pretty badly."

Derek frowned, and nudged himself closer to Spencer. "Kids didn't have anything better to do than bully a twelve year old?"

Spencer shrugged. "I guess not. But they used to mess with me a lot, especially when it came to girls. Like, one time I got this note from a girl I had a crush on." His cheeks heated up. "She said she thought I was cute." Derek looked at Spencer curiously, dread built up inside of him. "She...uh...she said she would only meet me if I wore a blindfold. So I did...and uh...she took my shirt off." Derek raised his eyebrows. "That's when I heard the laughter."

"That's terrible," Derek ground out, and tried to withhold the anger he felt inside.

"They did a lot of times to me. I was...stupid. I kept falling for it. I guess I just kind of hoped I'd make a friend, girl or not. Someone. I was lonely," Spencer explained, and picked the lint off of Derek's shirt, probably as some method of distraction. "One time I got a note from this girl. She wasn't popular like the others. She wasn't a senior, either. She was a freshman. Two years older than me. She wasn't...she wasn't like the popular kids. She was kind of an outcast, too," Spencer said softly. "She said she liked me, and asked if I'd meet her behind the school after school was over. So I did. We talked for a minute or so, and then she leaned forward and kissed me...and for a second I thought it was real," Spencer said softly. "But then I heard laughter again, giggling, turns out it was another prank."

"The girl was in on it?" Derek asked.

Spencer nodded. "It wasn't as...petty as the rest. This one? This one was a clear message. That no matter who I talk to, who I try to become close to, who tries to be close to me, I'll never be welcome, and no one will ever like me. Naturally I just _had _to cry."

"You were twelve," Derek replied, and wrapped his arm even tighter around Spencer, anchored him close. "You thought a girl had liked you."

"I was so confused why she would do that," Spencer continued on. "Because she was an outcast, too. But then I realized why...and I felt bad for her. Because she did it just because she wanted to be accepted, too." Spencer shrugged. "It doesn't make it right, but it makes it understandable."

Derek sucked in a deep breath, released it, and shook his head. The kid had only been twelve years old. "Want to know a secret, kid?"

"Okay," Spencer agreed softly, and looked up at Derek, his sad eyes replaced with curious ones.

"You probably assume I was a jock, right?" Derek asked.

Spencer raised a brow and looked over Derek's form before he nodded in affirmation. "Weren't you?"

"Sure," Derek agreed easily. "But not at first. Freshman year? 5'3""." Derek laughed when he saw Spencer's jaw just about drop, and his eyes almost light up. "Yeah, yeah. I weighed a buck twenty soaking wet."

"You're lying to me," Spencer said in disbelief. "You _have _to be lying to me."

"I swear to you I'm not," Derek assured him, he still smiled at Spencer, mainly because of how unbelieving the young man was as he stared at Derek. "Got my ass kicked every single day." The smile vanished from Spencer's face. "So following summer? I hit the weights. I got lucky and grew six inches. It was never about vanity as much as it was about survival."

"What sport did you play?" Spencer asked quietly, he continued to play with Derek's shirt.

"Football," Derek replied, though he'd nearly grown to resent the sport.

Spencer let out a little laugh, and Derek looked at him curiously. "I kissed a former high-school football player," Spencer said with a grin, and Derek just shook his head in disbelief.

"_That's _what you got from my little story?" Derek asked.

"It's just funny how things go full circle," Spencer said with a shrug. "Football team used to beat me up a lot."

"Don't get how you weren't able to turn it all around. What? With your sweet magic tricks," Derek teased, and Spencer whacked him in the ribs again. Earlier in the evening Spencer had displayed his magic abilities to Derek, who watched as Spencer moved a pen through an image without damage, and made coins appear and disappear. "Don't get defensive! I honestly found it charming!"

Spencer just shook his head. "We're not even paying attention to this movie," he said as he looked at the fuzzy TV screen.

"Not that good of a movie, anyway." Derek shrugged. "Seen it at least twenty times."

"Why would you watch it so many times if it's so horrible?" Spencer inquired with amusement, his hand had stopped picking at lint, and then just rest atop Derek's midsections, almost as though Spencer had forgotten he'd put it there.

"Because horrible movies seem to be the only movies ever on TV at bad motels," Derek replied with a grin, one that Spencer easily returned. "Trust me, I've stayed at _a lot _of bad motels."

"You ever miss having a home?" Spencer asked him softly, almost hesitantly.

Did he miss it? More than Derek could ever put into words. He missed everything about it. About having a place to come back to at the end of a hectic day. The day could be insane, crazy, but you'd return home and everything would be as it was, you'd feel safe, be able to crawl into the same bed you slept in night after night, and you'd feel safe.

But since Derek didn't know how to properly describe all that, and was worried if he started he wouldn't be able to stop, he decided on the most simple method of an answer, "Yes."

Spencer just nodded his head to acknowledge he'd heard what Derek had said, but looked perplexed at what to say in response to it.

"How long have you been on the road for?" Spencer asked finally.

"Years," Derek answered with a sigh. "Long enough that when I get home I'm not sure which one of my sisters will strangle me first."

"Did you say goodbye?" Spencer asked, and Derek tried not to resent the stream of inquiries.

"I wasn't going to go away forever, so a goodbye isn't the right word," Derek answered, but it was much harder to explain to someone who didn't get the entire situation. It all made perfect sense to Derek, and deep down he hoped it made sense to his Mama and sisters, too. "But I let them know I was going, and I let them know I was going to come back."

"Does it all ever seem moot?" Spencer kept up with the questions. "All the traveling?"

"No," Derek answered earnestly, quick to the answer. He'd asked himself the question before if it was worth it, and the answer was always the same, it was. "I'm doing all this for a reason, Spencer."

"I know you are," Spencer said.

There was silence for awhile that was carried throughout the room. Derek continued to stroke Spencer's hair, and Spencer begun to lean more into his one armed embrace.

"You know...for our next date...there's this art exhibit soon-."

"No."

Spencer looked up at him and pouted, honestly pouted. "Well, I _guess _I could go alone," he said sadly.

Derek groaned, and thumped his head back. "Fine. But if I take you to this, we're _definitely _going clubbing at some point."

"Alright," Spencer agreed easily, but Derek still had doubt in his mind it would actually happen.

"When did I become wrapped around your finger?" Derek mused out loud.

"It's easy to get someone wrapped around your finger," Spencer replied, almost wickedly, and Derek instantly realized he was parroting the words that Derek had said to him the same damn day he'd met him. "You just make them think you're wrapped around theirs."

Derek looked at Spencer, and Spencer looked back at him.

It had taken less than half a second before they'd started kissing.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer sighed as he parked his car. He'd eventually had to leave Derek's motel room, he had work in the morning, and there was no way he was showing up in the same exact wrinkled clothing he'd left in. Delilah wouldn't let him hear the end of it, or even worse, she wouldn't say anything about it at all, she'd just _look _at him.

Spencer went to lift his satchel that rest on the floor of the passenger seat, and frowned when it popped open for a moment and he saw something rest inside of it. He slowly pulled it out, and gaped when he saw it was one of the pieces of art Spencer had been looking at during the artwalk. It was two people, painted in watercolor, they stood together, hand in hand, as they looked out the window at a whole beautiful world that was around them. Spencer had been caught off guard the sheer simply beauty of it, but hadn't said a word, and he damn sure hadn't bought the tiny little painting.

Spencer felt something on the back of it, and flipped it around to see a little post it note.

"_You're not the only one who knows magic tricks."-Derek _

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Derek sighed as he looked up at the motel ceiling, zeroing in on the single stain that rest above his bed. The night had been...perfect. That was the only word in the english language Derek could possibly think of to describe it.

But that just made it harder. Made his chest ache, put a heavier weight on his shoulders.

Because he really didn't want to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read this! The next chapter will be the final one!**

**WARNING: Mentions of sexual assault and bullying in this chapter! **

Time seemed to pass by so fast, especially when a person didn't want it to. The hours in the day would sometimes crawl, but then next thing you knew months passed you by. That was how life was turning out for Derek Morgan, anyway. One day he showed up at a diner, starving, sweaty, and broke, and then the next thing he knew he had a good amount of money in his pocket, had finished up his part in Mrs. Warren's house, and was, by all means, dating a young genius who had two PhDs and was still in college.

Spencer had not been in his original plans. Not by a long shot. He'd only planned to stop in the area long enough to get a short summer job and put some money in his pocket. He'd had no intention of staying any longer, yet, he did. He'd even celebrated Spencer's damn nineteenth birthday. Delilah had told him about it, and he'd taken him out to a fancy restaurant, he was sure Delilah wouldn't mind, and the kid had complained the entire time about how there was no way he was going to let Derek spend so much money on him. Derek had effectively ignored him and only grinned when the kid opened the menu and nearly had his jaw drop to the smooth floor beneath them once he saw the prices.

The last birthday Derek had celebrated before he'd taken off was his Mama's, and the thought of the fact that he hadn't been around for one after that broke his heart a bit. It felt almost...nice to be able to do something for someone else's. He refused to celebrate his own, though, and Spencer had seemed almost sad when he'd learned Derek's had passed by, and then had said a sentence that had ingrained itself into Derek's brain,

"_Well, maybe next year I can be the one to take you to a disgustingly overpriced restaurant." _

Spencer was seemingly positive in the fact that, come Derek's birthday, Derek would still be around. Not that Derek could blame him, he'd been rather ambiguous about his plans...but the reason for that was the fact that Derek didn't quite know what his plans were. That had never been a problem in the past. At least, not for awhile. He'd finish jobs, get money, and go. There never had to be a time frame. But then he met Spencer, and suddenly he had someone more to worry about than just himself.

He had a nerdy kid who would sometimes randomly show up at his motel room doorstep near the middle of the night with a textbook underneath one of his well dressed arms and pretty much invite himself in to sit and study while Derek watched whatever horrible show came in the clearest on his TV. It got to the point where Derek would have a cup of coffee ready for his arrival. Spencer always sipped it gleefully as he made quick work of his textbook. It still freaked Derek out a bit how fast he could read. His hand would just drag down each page, his eyes would scan over the words at a fast pace, page flip, repeat process. If that wasn't incredible enough, the fact he was able to memorize every single word just added to it.

It wasn't just his books that Spencer studied and memorized, though. He seemed to study people in general. He'd be able to inform Derek how many times he usually clicked through channels before he just got sick of it and settled for whatever was on, was able to tell Derek the average amount of time it took him to shift around in bed before he got comfortable, how many swigs of water her took before he usually got sick of it and just downed the whole bottle, and one time even told Derek the usual time frame in which they kissed.

"You count time while we're kissing?" Derek had asked him. Spencer was seated next to him on the bed, his textbook on the little wooden coffee table near the window. "I must be doing something wrong."

Spencer was probably one of the most mild college kids that Derek could have ever dreamt of meeting. He never went to parties, hated clubbing, the thought of dancing seemed almost offensive to him, and he often told Derek about all the terrible things drugs could do to a person's body. Of course, there was that one time where Derek was almost certain Spencer had shown up at his motel room a little tipsy, but the kid was from Vegas after all.

"I'm certain my professor hates me," Spencer announced one day as they sat across from each other in a booth at the diner. It was dark out, and two steaming cups of coffee sat before them. It was a wonder Spencer was able to sleep at all.

"Which one?" Derek asked. Spencer had ranted about various professors to him since the school year had begun. One professor was apparently out of his mind, the other out of her element, and the other one apparently had the intelligence of an eight year old.

"Well…" Spencer frowned deeply, and swirled the sugar into his cup as smoke still emitted from it. "All of them."

"Nothing new at school, then?" Derek asked humorlessly. But deep down? He kind of felt like an old man asking the question.

Spencer smiled slightly. "Sadly, no." He sighed dramatically, and took a sip of his coffee, he winced when the heat probably scorched his tongue. Derek resisted an eye roll, he never learned. "My peers aren't overly fond of me, either."

"Well, you're probably smarter than all of them combined," Derek said logically. "Probably pisses them off."

Spencer scowled at him. "I'm intelligent, Derek, but I'm not _that _intelligent. But…" He bit his lip nervously.

"But…" Derek prompted teasingly when he saw Spencer wasn't going to willingly continue with his train of thought.

"But I keep correcting my professors," Spencer confessed finally, he looked at Derek nervously, and Derek just resisted a smirk. Of course Spencer did. "It's not my fault! They're sometimes, not often, but occasionally incorrect. If you're in a teaching position you should be an expert of the subject, you shouldn't be making mistakes."

"Okay, kid, I get it, I do," Derek attempted to appease him, he still had to resist a smile. "But here's the thing, no matter how aggravating the teachers are, and no matter how wrong they are, they're the ones putting the grades on the papers. So you have to appease them as best you can."

Spencer frowned, obviously not agreeing with Derek at all. "I've never gotten a grade lower than an A in my entire life, Derek," Spencer told him seriously, and that time Derek couldn't resist a smile. "I don't fear getting a grade lower than I deserve, and I won't let a teacher incorrectly "educate"." He used his fingers as quotations around the word educate. "The class."

"I'm sure your classmates deeply appreciate your efforts," Derek said dryly. He finally took a sip of his own coffee after blowing on it. The still hot liquid filled his mouth and immediately ambushed his taste buds. He almost felt the need to sigh in appreciation; he'd been severely undercaffeinated the whole day. He hoped his need for caffeinated beverages wasn't reaching Spencer's level of desperation. He couldn't last a single day without more than one cup, and Derek was starting to become the same way.

"Well...not _exactly,_" Spencer replied glumly.

"By not exactly you mean…?"

"Not at all," Spencer admitted. He then scowled again. "But it doesn't really bother me much. Trust me, it's not half as bad as high school."

"Well, there has to be some amount of jealousy, Spencer," Derek reasoned with him. Spencer sat across from him, coffee cradled in his grip, hair gel'd back away from his face, mouth tugged downwards thoughtfully. "I mean, you've got two PhDs while some people are working their asses off to try to get their first one. At your age, it doesn't really seem fair."

"Well it's not my fault," Spencer replied with frustration. He took another sip of coffee, and once again winced as it must have burned him again.

"Never said it was," Derek responded. "Just saying, sometimes being a brilliant genius doesn't always earn you friends." Derek paused for a beat, and then grinned. "Though, I do hear it can attract some pretty decent company."

Spencer's face was very stiff and stoic, which Derek knew meant he was trying hard not to smile. "Wouldn't know," Spencer replied casually. "Haven't met up with any decent company as of late."

"You see, that?" Derek pointed an accusatory finger at Spencer, and watched as he obviously bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing. "That is the exact reason why people have a problem with you, smartass."

"I have been told I'm very smart," Spencer simply replied, and hid his losing fight with his smile behind his coffee cup.

"Uh-huh, and what about the whole ass portion of the title?" Derek inquired.

"Been told I have a good one, too," Spencer said the remark almost slightly bashfully, though he was still going for deadpan humor. "By some people."

"Some people, huh?" Derek asked. "Do these people make pretty decent company?"

Spencer finally set the coffee cup down, and grinned at him fully. "Decent enough."

Derek just grinned back at him. It was moments like that. Just, calm, casual moments. Nothing dramatic, nothing sickeningly romantic about them. Just moments where they sat, and they talked, and they joked. Moments like that. Moments that made Derek's heart ache and made him never want to ever leave.

Moments that were so dangerous to everything he had worked so hard for.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Things with him and Derek had finally fallen into a routine of sorts, and Spencer couldn't help but be thrilled with that fact.

Spencer loved routine. He loved having a plan. It wasn't that he was resistant to change, not at all, but he liked to plan out the change before it occurred. Like, if he was to rearrange his textbooks in a new order to make the selection process more effortless, he planned the whole system in advance.

Derek and Spencer differed on the whole "routine" thing. Spencer liked to know if they were going to do something. He didn't enjoy being ambushed with sudden plans on a night where he planned for none at all, whereas Derek just saw it as they both had time, and they were both bored. Derek liked to take things as they come, whereas Spencer liked to know when they were coming.

A great example was on Thanksgiving. Derek had said adamantly that he was _not _planning to do _anything _for it. He showed almost an...animosity for the holiday that Spencer couldn't possibly pinpoint the reason for. It wasn't like Spencer liked it much himself, he'd never quite celebrated it before.

"I haven't celebrated Thanksgiving since I left home," Derek confessed one day. They were on his motel bed, which had seemed to almost grow more comfortable the more Spencer got used to it. The TV still flickered, but Spencer had adjusted to the weird double vision that some people's faces would take on. "I have no intention of doing anything for it until I get home."

"I never celebrated it at all," Spencer replied, and Derek looked to him with a look of surprise. Spencer had just shrugged, a lot of the blanks of his life still hadn't quite been filled. But as soon as Derek was more willing to reveal some of his, Spencer would reveal some of his own. "Well, I remember maybe three occasions," Spencer corrected. "But...things before I turned ten are kind of fuzzy. You know, after my Dad left I…" Spencer bit his lip in contemplation of his words. "I didn't see the use of remembering any happy family memories, since they were all a lie, anyway."

Things had been silent for a few moments after that. Derek had just carded his hand absentmindedly through Spencer's hair, before Spencer had broken the silence by informing him, "Did you know Thanksgiving became a federal holiday in 1863?"

Everything had seemed normal after that conversation, normal enough, anyway, but then on Thanksgiving he'd gotten a call from Delilah. She told him he had to get to the diner right away, and Spencer hadn't even argued. It wasn't like he was doing anything except hanging around and reading a random textbook he'd found at a yard sale awhile back on Abnormal Child Psychology. It was one of the few books he had around him that he'd been yet to read. He'd already written his Mom a letter. He'd avoided wishing her a happy holiday, since she'd never believed in celebrating it in the first place.

He'd shown up at the diner, and was ready to see just about anything. Just about, anyway, because the one thing he hadn't expected was to have just about a Thanksgiving feast overloaded on a plate awaiting him on the table of his and Derek's booth. The even more startling thing was Derek already seated across from it, with his own plate in front of him.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Derek greeted casually, as though he hadn't just done something so completely shocking that Spencer still hadn't moved from his frozen spot in the middle of the diner, mouth ajar. "Hope you like turkey."

Spencer just nodded his head, still shocked at the amount of food that overloaded the plates. He'd heard Delilah and Larry snickering to themselves, but for the life of him he couldn't bother to move his head to look to see where they would. "It's a great source for amino acids," Spencer finally said. "Uh...turkey also contains selenium, which is essential for the healthy function of both the thyroid and the immune system. Selenium can also help to eliminate cancer-friendly free radicals in the body."

"Good to know I'm doing what's best for your body," Derek said lightly, and then gave the booth across from him a kick with his shoe. He looked very good that day. In a clean black shirt, freshly shaved, freshly washed, and he even almost looked well-rested. He hadn't ended up getting that house that he'd told Spencer months prior he wanted to work on, but he'd been working on some other projects that seemed to be doing a number on the amount of sleep he got. "Take a seat, doc."

It took Spencer a moment to even fully understand that request. He stood there, and stared at the plates, and then back to Derek, before he finally scurried over and took his seat in the booth across from him.

"If we eat all of this there's a very large possibility of us getting sick," Spencer informed him honestly. His plate had roughly four large slices of turkey, enough mashed potato to feed at least three people, piles of carrots, green beans, butternut squash, and a little bit of cranberry sauce in a little bowl next to the plate.

"Really now?" Derek asked him in amusement. He'd already swallowed down a piece of his turkey, and was cutting up more out of the slices. "Glad you're going to school so you can make that brilliant assessment." Spencer glared at him. "It's Thanksgiving, kid, you're supposed to eat enough to make yourself physically ill."

"I don't quite see the fun in that," Spencer replied. He picked up his own fork and knife, and slowly cut into his turkey, there was no way he was going to eat all the pieces.

"It's kind of like when you go on a roller coaster," Derek begun to explain, he still looked amused. "You start to feel queasy, then you get off the roller coaster and throw up." Spencer wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Then you get back in line, and go on again."

"That's idiotic," Spencer replied, and Derek released a huff of annoyance.

"Just trust me, kid," Derek said. "It's part of the Thanksgiving tradition. If you're not uncomfortable and unable to move after this meal, something was done wrong."

Spencer rolled his eyes and plopped a piece of turkey in his mouth. He then paused for a moment, closed his eyes, and savored the delicious taste. It was perfect. Cooked, but just enough that it was still moist.

"Fine," Spencer agreed after he'd re-opened his eyes to see that Derek had a smug smirk on his face. "But I need to eat fast. It takes twenty minutes for your brain to tell your stomach that you're full, and after my brain informs it of the fact I make no promises for my continuous eating."

"Fair enough," Derek agreed easily, and just continued to smile smugly at him as Spencer dug into his food.

"Just for the record," Derek begun after five minutes of Spencer humming in delight over the deliciousness of the mashed potatoes. "There's more food in the back."

"Is this a creative way for you to kill me?" Spencer inquired. He'd barely even made a dent in his food. "You know, the total U.S. spending cost on Thanksgiving dinner food is $2,375,000,000," Spencer told him.

"So, all this food really won't stop the facts from flowing, huh?" Derek inquired dryly. He himself had already made quite the dent in his food, which Spencer didn't know how that was humanly possible.

"Derek," Spencer begun with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "We've been eating together for _months _now, and you're just realizing this?"

"We've never had Thanksgiving together," Derek defended himself, and gestured to Spencer's loaded plate. "You're able to still think of facts and statistics with your plate loaded with delicious Thanksgiving day food. That is a condition, and you should see a doctor."

"I have, he says I'm fine," Spencer said easily, and put another piece of delicious turkey in his mouth.

"Oh really? What doctor was this?"

"Me," Spencer answered brightly, and saw Derek just shake his head. "I think I'm absolutely fine."

Derek just looked at Spencer for awhile, he made no move to grasp his fork or to go anywhere near his food. He just looked at him, and smiled. "You wanna know something, pretty boy? I agree with that diagnosis."

Spencer had eaten long past the twenty minute rule he'd set forth. He couldn't seem to stop himself, Delilah had even brought out more food from the kitchen. He and Derek, talked, and ate, and ate some more. By the time Spencer finally quit, he couldn't move, at all, and he was almost positive he was going to be sick...but somehow, some way, it was worth it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

"Do you like Christmas?" Spencer asked him randomly one day. They were both on Derek's motel room bed, Spencer's textbook left in its usual position on the table near the window, the blinds were shut tight, and the TV flickered, which cast odd shadows through the room.

"Do I like it, or do I celebrate it?" Derek inquired in return. Spencer hadn't put any gel in his hair that day, and Derek was incredibly pleased with the fact. His fingers always got caught in the sludge he slicked it with if Spencer did. He liked it much more without it. It was wavy, and silky, he didn't get why Spencer would try to cover that to look like a little business man.

"Both," Spencer replied, and smiled when Derek rubbed into his scalp a little with the tips of his fingers, he gently massaged the scalp. It was odd, Derek was aware Spencer used to dislike touch, but it was as though he'd grown accustomed to Derek doing it, but still flinched if anyone tried to touch him.

"I have...decent Christmas memories," Derek answered. He really did. They never had a lot of money, but his parents always found a way to make it work. "Santa brought me a big wheel one year, that was pretty sweet." He eyed Spencer, who seemed to take in every word he spoke thoughtfully, as always. "What about you?"

"Jesus wasn't even born on December 25th," Spencer informed Derek, instead of answering the actual question. "The celebratory customs associated in various countries with Christmas actually have an interesting mix of pagan, pre-Christian, Christian and secular themes and origins."

"So is that genius for no?" Derek inquired with a barely withheld grin.

"Besides my feelings that it's a rip-off of other winter time celebrations, and ultimately nears pointlessness, I don't really recall celebrating it much," Spencer answered, and leaned into Derek's touch like a cat. "I remember my parents getting me gifts when I was younger, but my Mom believed it was...pointless, and my Dad ended up leaving. I had an Aunt that would sometimes give me Christmas presents, but that was about it." He gave Derek a look. "This does not mean I want to get a call and walk into the diner to see a giant pine tree surrounded by presents and a giant ham."

"Don't worry, Grinch," Derek replied lightly, and Spencer whacked him on the chest, which just made him laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it. I hate ham."

"I know," Spencer responded, and Derek resisted rolling his eyes. Of course Spencer knew. "I brought you a ham sandwich when you did that little bit of work on the Fosters' home." Derek had been taking small jobs here and there, nothing steady. He had quite the pretty penny in his wallet, though. "You tried to be polite but nearly threw it up."

"Here I thought I was hiding my disgust so well," Derek said, and flicked the tip of Spencer's nose, which made him go cross-eyed and then glare back at Derek, who just chuckled again. "Trust me, kid, once you vomit up ham salad, you'll never want to come across anything close to it again."

"Ham salad is very popular in western Pennsylvania," Spencer informed him, and Derek just stared at him in disbelief. Leave it to Spencer to know facts regarding ham salad. "Never had it myself."

"Yeah, well, don't get it anywhere near me," Derek warned him. "I got so sick that even when I see it I feel the need to vomit."

"I feel similarly about spinach," Spencer said.

"You got sick off of it?"

"No, I just really hate it."

Derek couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Okay, then. I'll remember not to ever feed you spinach, if you remember to never feed me ham salad."

"Deal," Spencer agreed easily.

"Maybe you should eat more spinach, though," Derek said teasingly, and brought that other hand that wasn't occupied with Spencer's hair down to squeeze his forearm. "Did wonders for Popeye."

"I'll stick with being weak over eating cans filled with spinach," Spencer said with disgust, and Derek laughed again. The comment was so ridiculous, but so oddly genuine at the same time.

"The ham thing is such a shame, really, at least back at home it was. My Mama loved to make ham," Derek informed Spencer, and he saw Spencer almost immediately perk up. For some reason, the kid loved to hear anything personal about Derek's home life. "You ever had ham with mac and cheese? She loved to make that. Made the best mac and cheese, actually. Always homemade."

"We have mac and cheese at the diner," Spencer informed him, he looked almost confused. "You've never ordered it."

"Nothing will ever compare to my Mama's," Derek replied dismissively. "Why bother with it?"

"I can't really have it," Spencer said. "Well...I can have a little. But too much lactose makes me sick...and how did we get here from discussing Christmas?"

"You brought up ham," Derek answered with amusement. The TV screen still flickered, some show on that neither of them gave a damn about. They never really even paid any attention to the TV, it was just there.

"I think the only holiday I've always liked is Halloween," Spencer told Derek, and smiled a little at even the mere mention of the holiday. Derek had been in for a shock when Spencer had shown up at his hotel room in the middle of the night with a Frankenstein's Monster mask on. He'd apparently thought it would be funny to attempt to scare Derek, who had nearly knocked his mask off of his face. "Ever since I was little."

"I'm just really happy you didn't try to force us into any couples costumes," Derek stated, and then cast a look at Spencer out of the corner of his eye, the kid was blushing. "Oh my god, did you think about it?!"

"No!" Spencer cried out.

"Oh you did! You wanted to be that cheesy couple that goes as french fries and ketchup, or something like that," Derek taunted, and Spencer looked at him in horror.

"I can assure you, I never once even dreamed of either of us putting on the costume of a ketchup bottle," Spencer replied in disgust.

Derek threw his head back against the pillow and laughed, Spencer just straightened up a bit, one hand on Derek's just for leverage, and continued to glare at him. Derek just raised both of his hands, gripped Spencer's face, and pulled it towards him so fast that he sprawled out on top of Derek as Derek kissed him.

"Mmf," was the only thing to come out of Spencer's mouth, before he melted into the kiss. When they pulled away, Spencer looked at him, almost as though he was in a daze.

"I'm really starting to understand the hype behind all of this," Spencer told him, and Derek chuckled so that his chest rumbled. One of Spencer's hands still rest upon it as he rolled next to Derek on his side, and just stared at him.

"Maybe next year we could get ourselves some Han Solo and Princess Leia costumes, I think that'd be an interesting look on you," Derek teased Spencer once more, but was surprised to see that he didn't look offended at all, in fact, he looked overjoyed. His eyes had lit up, his mouth was slowly forming into a smile, and the hand that rest on his chest tightened on the material a little bit. Derek at first wondered if the kid secretly harbored some type of weird costume fantasy, until his own words hit him like a brick.

"_Maybe next year." _

It had slipped out, as though he'd had no control of it. But it seemed Spencer took the slip almost like a promise.

"Maybe next year," Spencer agreed, eyes still lit up, face still formed a joyful smile.

"Kid...I didn't…" Derek trailed off, unsure of what to say. It had just slipped out. "I didn't mean to say that."

"But you said it," Spencer said, he still looked as though he was on cloud nine, and Derek felt his resolve slowly shriveling away and dying in a place within him. "It just...came out, no hesitation." Spencer's eyes were bright. "You still plan to be here next year."

"I never said that, Spencer," Derek's words came out harsher than he had intended them to, but he couldn't help it. He felt almost a type of panic build up within him at the fact the words had escaped his own lips. He pushed up at the blankets he rest atop of, so that he could get into a more seated position, Spencer just continued to watch him. "You know I can't say that."

"But you did," Spencer continued, he slowly rose up to be more at eye level with Derek. Derek closed his eyes and let out a breath of frustration, Spencer didn't get it. "You've been traveling for years, you said," Spencer reminded him. "I can tell you don't want to anymore."

"You're not getting it, Spencer." Derek opened his eyes and shook his head, he felt exasperated. He couldn't just stop. He couldn't just give up. The very thought of it was absurd.

"Then tell me what I'm not getting," Spencer insisted. "You...you do such sweet things for me, Derek," Spencer said, and the strange path Spencer had taken through Derek for a loop. It would have been a lot easier if Spencer had chosen to insult him. "You got together the whole Thanksgiving day dinner just to make me smile. You take me to do things you can't possibly like, but you do them anyway. You do all that, and you seem committed, I mean." Spencer paused, as though to gather his thoughts. His brow was creased in concentration, as though he was working out a tough math problem and not speaking about their relationship. "You don't hit on other people...except Delilah, but you know what I mean. You like to flirt. At least, that's what I presume given your comfortable nature to it, but you never do with anyone else in my presence. You're committed, yet you're distant, and don't want to stay with me."

The last part broke Derek's heart in half. _You don't want to stay with me. _That wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. But it was impossible to explain what it was to someone who just didn't understand it.

"Spencer." But he'd attempt to explain, anyway. Because he just couldn't let that thought hang there. "It's not that I don't want to stay with you…"

"Then what is it?" Spencer asked, not giving Derek his full chance to explain. Derek wasn't quite sure where he was going with it, anyway. "Because you don't want to say anything that would even lead me to believe you plan to stay longer."

"Things aren't that simple, Spencer," Derek snapped in frustration, Spencer didn't even flinch at his voice, he just stared at him intently. Derek ran a hand over his scalp, and let his head fall back onto the headboard. "I've traveled for a long time in search, Spencer, and I can't give up."

"What are you searching for?" Spencer asked. "You keep saying you're searching for something, but you won't say what."

"Oh, and you're not cryptic?" Derek asked him, and Spencer stiffened and looked away. "You tell me bits and pieces of your life, Spencer. But I don't know your whole story, either. You stayed here all through summer vacation, Delilah even told me you sublet a place from her, and you obviously have no intention of going home for winter break."

"I can't," Spencer said simply, voice choked.

"Why not?" Derek pressed.

"Because there's no one to go home to," Spencer responded, voice grave. "My Mom is a paranoid schizophrenic who I had admitted into a sanitarium," Spencer admitted, head held down in shame. "Dad left because my Mom could no longer care for herself…" Spencer laughed humorlessly. "Guess he didn't care whether or not that meant she could take care of me." Spencer looked at Derek, his eyes haunted, his hands had found each other and were wrung together in his typical nervous gesture, if there was a floor beneath his feet Derek was certain he'd hear tapping.

"Spencer...I…"

"She did her best," Spencer continued. Derek assumed he was worried if he didn't continue he wouldn't get the rest out. "I know she did. But she was sick, and I had to care for her. Bring her the medicine she needed, which she sometimes wouldn't even take, try to get her for go for walks she never wanted to go on, try to tell her that that no one was watching our family. No one was studying our lives. But then I had to go to school." Spencer's jaw was set, and his eyes were now cast forward, unable to meet Derek's stare. "I had to go to school, and I knew she was going to start to fall apart. I worked it out for as long as I could. Did whatever I could. But it wasn't enough, she begun to unravel. Forgot to do the most basic of things, forgot to take her medicine...I couldn't let her live like that. So when I turned eighteen I had her admitted. It was for her own good. I swear, it was for her own good. But it…" He trailed off and took in a shuddering breath, his body quivered slightly. "It doesn't make it feel any better."

"Spencer…" Derek's hand hovered right above Spencer's shoulder, unsure whether or not he should make contact. Spencer turned his head to look at him, his eyes welled with tears.

"That's why I can't go home. Because I'm a coward," Spencer admitted with great shame that weighed down his entire form. "I can't face what I did. So I hide behind a letter every day to play the good son...but I'm not."

"You are," Derek assured him. "Spencer...you did what was best for her," Derek said the words with complete and utter earnesty.

"I locked her away," Spencer said firmly. "I locked her away...and she begged me not to, Derek. She begged me. My Mom rarely begs for anything, but she begged me not to let them take her away, but I did it, anyway. I pulled her away from her home, her things, had her locked away, and I don't even have the strength to visit her."

"Do you know how worse off she'd probably be if you didn't do what you did?" Derek asked him seriously, and Spencer met his eye with hesitation. "You did what was best, don't you doubt that for a second. You're not your Dad. You didn't leave her alone to deal with her own health and with her son, you sent her some place where she could get help. You didn't abandon anyone, and you're not a coward."

"I can't face her," Spencer replied.

"You're human," Derek returned seriously, and finally let his hand raise high enough to cup Spencer's cheek. He let his fingers rub up against the smooth skin, and watched as Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, and then let his hand fall down.

"I don't get why he left," Spencer admitted to Derek miserably, his eyes reopened. "She tried to get him to take me, you know. But he wouldn't. He didn't want me."

"He's an idiot," Derek said bluntly. He paused. "So the whole bullying thing...did your Mom know about it?"

Spencer shook his head instantly. "No way," he said. "I mean...she knew I had trouble at school. But she didn't know the extent. I didn't want to worry her, and sometimes." He gulped. "Sometimes she was too out of it to notice."

Derek stayed silent, gave Spencer the choice of whether or not he wanted to continue. Whether or not he wanted to reveal more, or if he wanted to stop talking all together.

"I told you about two times when bullies tricked me with girls, right?" Spencer's cheeks were tinted pink, and he had his head held down, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, it didn't take a genius to see he was embarrassed.

"I do recall hearing something about that, yes," Derek replied, and watched Spencer warily, unsure of what he would say next.

"I...there was one time it was really bad." He still just sat there, head down, humiliation evident on what Derek could see of his face. "I guess I was gullible."

"You were twelve and lonely," Derek responded.

"One day I was in the library," Spencer begun, completely ignoring Derek's remark. But Derek just sat up straighter and listened intently. "Then...uh…Harper Hillman comes up to me and tells me." He swallowed forcefully. "She tells me that Alexa Lisbon wants to meet me behind the field house." Derek frowned, he could already sense that the story wasn't going to go in a pleasant direction. "Now, you have to understand Alexa Lisbon is easily the prettiest girl in school."

"What happened? Alexa wasn't there?" Derek asked after Spencer was silent for a moment.

"No, she was there. But so was the entire football team." Derek winced, and closed his eyes for a moment. Why was it always the football team? "They stripped me naked, and tied me to a goalpost."

Derek's jaw squared, his eyes narrowed, and he looked away for a moment in anger. He was only twelve years old. The entire football team had nothing better to do than strip and harass a twelve year old boy?

"So many kids were there," Spencer continued on. "Just watching."

"Nobody tried to stop them?"

"No. I begged them to...but they just watched," Spencer answered, and sucked in another breath, and released it slowly. His hands were still wrung together, and his head was still held down, like _he _had something to be ashamed of. "Finally they got bored and just left. It was around midnight when I finally got home and...and my Mom was having one of her episodes. She didn't even realize I was late."

"You never told her?" Derek asked sadly.

"I never told anyone. I hoped that, you know, I'd just forget. But I never have forgotten. I sit here, I talk about it now, and I feel like it just happened yesterday." Spencer finally lifted his head and looked Derek dead in the eye.

Derek just stared back in Spencer's eyes, and hadn't a clue what on earth he could say. He was the one who called Spencer out on the fact that he wasn't open, and it seemed like he was determined to mend that, and it only made Derek feel like an ass.

"I did the best I could for my Mom, until I couldn't do anymore," Spencer finally concluded. "That's why I don't go back home."

Derek let out a long gust of air and shook his head. "You showed me yours, huh? Guess now you want me to show you mine."

"I'm not asking for anything," Spencer said. "I didn't do that with an agenda, I did it because I trust you."

Well, damn. He couldn't have possibly said anything that could have made Derek feel worse.

Derek paused, and examined all of his choices. Really? It didn't seem to him like there were many. He could keep silent, and have Spencer have just poured his heart out to him just for the hell of it, and probably not have the kid trust him again. Or he could tell his own story.

Those were the two choices. But in Derek's mind, there was no choice, because he knew which one he needed to pick.

"I was with my Dad when he died," he announced suddenly, and Spencer looked at him in surprise, mouth open slightly. Derek cursed the bluntness of his statement, he probably could have eased into it a little better. "He tried to stop a robbery. He was a cop, and a damn good one, but he died. I guess you could say that had an...effect on me. Awhile after that I started screwing up big time."

"Screwing up like how?" Spencer asked. His gaze was steady, his voice still slightly choked from his own confessional.

"Screwing up like getting myself involved with some local gangbangers, that type of screwing up." Both of Spencer's eyebrows shot up, but there was still no trace of judgement in his eyes. He just continued to look, silently urged Derek to go on, and Derek complied. "I never did anything with drugs, or anything like that. But I would run errands for them, that kind of thing. But some unpleasant things went down, and I started to get myself an unkindly record. There was an altercation, and after that? After that his one cop decided to pin everything on me. No matter what happened, no matter if I was anywhere near it or not, he'd blame it all on me." Derek remembered how worried his Mama was, how pissed Sarah was, and how confused Desirée was.

"That's awful," Spencer said after a long lull in the conversation. He could tell Spencer was confused as to where Derek was leading him with his story, but he was attempting to be patient.

"Yeah, it was. But then." Derek's jaw set, and he took in a deep breath. "There was this guy, Carl Buford. He ran a youth center, he got my records expunged, so that I could have a fresh start." Spencer was looking at him with interest, and that never fading curiosity that he always had. Every time anyone ever spoke, Spencer was curious. "He latched onto me. Taught me how to play football, mentored me. He was like." Derek let out a dead laugh. Because really, what else was he to do? The next words he would speak would forever make him feel ill. "He was like a Father figure."

He expected Spencer to say something, make some sort of comment, but he just continued to stare at him. His eyes had turned sympathetic, it was obvious he didn't know exactly where the story was going, but he knew it wasn't going in a favorable direction. He was too smart not to.

"He gave me his time. Then one day, he took me to his cabin by the lake." Derek's vision darkened as the memories all came flooding back to him. It wasn't like he'd forgotten, he could never forget, but he hadn't...he hadn't talked about it in a long time. "Took me skinny dipping one day." He saw Spencer's eyes widen, and his mouth pop open to form an "o", finally it probably dawned on Spencer where the story was going, and Derek could see the growing horror in his eyes. "Later he gave me a glass of wine. Now, what kid do you know that would turn down a glass of wine?" Derek shook his head.

"Alcohol lowers your inhibitions," Spencer said the sentence absentmindedly, might not have even realized he said it outloud, but Derek nodded his head.

"Yeah. Later, he had me strip, and he molested me." The horror in Spencer's eyes grew, and he shut them for a moment. "He did it...a lot of times. More than I could count."

"Did you...did you ever tell anyone?" Spencer asked, although he knew the answer.

"When I was a kid? Of course not. I had so much to lose, he made sure of that. But I didn't want it," he choked a bit as he said the latter part. "He saw it, too. He would see in my eyes that I didn't want it, and he'd tell me to man up and to…" He swallowed, shut his eyes, reopened them, and then spoke, "To look up at the sky."

"Derek…" Spencer trailed off, and gently put a hand on Derek's shoulder blade, his eyes were filled with regret. "I didn't mean to…"

"No, I'm not done yet," Derek warned him and held a finger up, but then gave Spencer a gentle smile, and raked a hand through the young genius' hair. "I trust you." Spencer's bottom lip wobbled a bit.

"I kept it a secret for...years, Spencer. I was ashamed, I was distrustful, and I was scared. Wanna know what I did before all this? Before I started traveling?" Derek asked, and Spencer just slowly nodded his head. "I had become a cop." Spencer's eyebrows rose. "Damn, don't look too shocked or anything. Didn't last long before I took off, like I said, been gone for awhile."

"I just…a cop. Wow." Derek couldn't help but crack up a bit at the look on Spencer's face.

"Yeah, kid, a cop. Like I said, I was only one for awhile. A very little while. But bodies...started dropping." Spencer frowned, probably confused as to how it related to the story. "It was Buford, killing boys he didn't want to talk. He tried to pin the whole thing on me, but I proved it was him. I didn't want to talk, Spencer. Didn't want to tell anyone. But I had to." Derek shook his head. "My whole life was out on the table. Everything I had worked hard to protect. Not only that but...he'd hurt other boys, Spencer. I never spoke up, never said a word."

"You didn't know," Spencer comforted him. "You only knew what he did to you."

"Still. I felt...I felt empty. So I needed to go," Derek explained, and saw Spencer frown. "You want to know what I'm searching for, kid? I'm searching for a way to feel whole again." Spencer just continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression. "Everywhere I go? I pick up another shred of myself. I stopped feeling complete, Spencer. I need to feel complete again. I can't go home until I do." He paused. "Now that sounds like the most ridiculous thing I could have ever said, but-."

"I get it," Spencer cut him off, and Derek looked at him with surprise. "I get it. You wanted to...find yourself. You're in search for something you can't even really describe, but you need it, and you need to travel until you find it." Derek nodded, and felt relief overcome him. "I'm...sorry I made you tell me all this."

"Hey." Derek gripped Spencer's chin with his hand, and made it so he had to look him in the eyes. "I did it because I wanted to do it. You're the...only person I ever told willingly, you know. Nobody had their life at risk here, no killer on the loose. I did it because I trust you."

"You lectured me once on trusting people blindly," Spencer recalled. Derek's hand had moved to cup his cheek, and Spencer leaned into it. "Then after we kissed and I asked you what we were, you panicked about it all. Was it because of Buford?"

"Some of it," Derek answered honestly, and rubbed at Spencer's smooth, silky, pale cheek with his fingertips. "Most of it. But you also weren't in my agenda. Nowhere in any of my plans did I ever envision you."

"Surprise," Spencer quipped, and Derek chuckled. It was almost like a sound of relief, really. He'd just poured his heart and soul out, put it all down on the table, yet Spencer still looked at him, stared him right in the eye, leaned into his touch. "If it means anything, you weren't in my plans, either."

"Surprise," Derek fired back at him, and Spencer laughed.

"I honestly never thought talking about Christmas would lead to his," Spencer admitted with a small smile, and Derek grinned back at him in amusement. Spencer still leaned into his touch, and seemed oddly...content. Even with all they had just spoken of.

"I guess we have a problem staying on topic, huh?" Derek asked.

"Something like that," Spencer agreed. He then bit his lip and eyed Derek. "Can I go off topic?"

"Shoot," Derek replied.

"Could I stay here tonight?" Spencer asked, and Derek felt his entire body freeze. The hand on Spencer's face probably even went rigid.

"You want to stay here?" Derek asked.

"Yeah...here…" Spencer had then given the bed a pat, as though Derek was going to shove him in the bathtub for the night or something. He looked at Derek hesitantly, Derek's hand had slowly released his face, and Spencer just continued to watch. He almost looked anxious.

"It's not winter break yet," Derek reasoned, and suddenly felt even older than his age. "You have class tomorrow."

"I'll wake up early," Spencer replied instantly, as though he'd thought the question over himself. Though, Derek had to assume he probably had. "I can make it in time. I'm very good at scheduling my hours," he informed Derek properly, and Derek had to resist laughing.

"I've noticed," Derek said. He then stared at Spencer for awhile...and then took the time to sort out his own feelings about it. "If you want to stay here tonight, I'd like that."

"I-oh-oh wow! I mean...really? I mean, great! That's...great." Spencer grinned at him goofily and Derek couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Yeah, it is," Derek agreed, and then his grin grew. "I just hope this isn't a post adolescent rebellious phase. You know? Dating the big strong drifter with a dark past, staying over at his cheap motel room for the night."

"Actually, you may be right," Spencer said, but there was obvious mirth in his gaze. "I'm totally rebelling. In fact, I am going to send my Dad a Christmas card featuring the two of us kissing each other while I hold up a pack of cigarettes and wear a black leather jacket."

Derek just smirked and let his gaze flicker up and down Spencer's form in appreciation. "You'd look good in leather."

"Oh thanks," Spencer said sarcastically. He then smiled again. "You know what else I could do? I could maybe put on some eyeliner." He gestured to his eyes, the mirth still evident in them.

"Uh-huh," Derek agreed, and leaned closed to Spencer. "Keep going."

"Maybe get a piercing somewhere," Spencer went on as Derek leaned in so close to him that Derek was certain Spencer could feel his breath on his face. "Eyebrow, maybe? Or a tattoo, I should totally get a tattoo!"

"Mmm, talk dirty to me," Derek growled, and smirked when Spencer started to laugh before their lips connected.

Secrets from the past had been revealed, tears had been shed, but not a single regret lasted with that conversation. Especially since later that night, Derek rest in bed with Spencer sound asleep at his side, arm wrapped around Derek's middle, and head snuggled into the crook of his neck, the bathroom light cast a dull shine on his body, and Spencer let out happy sighs every few moments.

It was one of the best nights of Derek's life.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

It was a few days after their conversation, and Derek was helping this buddy he made finish up some work on a house. The guy had his own crew and everything, but he'd called Derek in for some help. They'd met when Mrs. Warren had, oh so subtly, called in some extra people while Derek worked on her house. They talked every once and awhile.

"I got to thank you for this, Derek," his buddy, Noah, said. Despite the temperature being decent, sweat still trickled down Noah's face. They'd been working hard the whole morning. "I swear, you work faster than my whole damn crew combined."

"It's no problem, man," Derek said casually, with a wave of his hand. "Just did what I could."

"Well, trust me, it's appreciated," Noah said sincerely and smiled at Derek, who just nodded back at him. "If you ever need a hand with anything, man, I swear to God, my crew is at your disposal."

Derek let out a sigh, wiped his hand across his brow, and then let his palms fall to his hip. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about something, it's something I need."

"Name it," Noah replied, arms now crossed over his chest. He was a tall man, and hovered over Derek. His arms were ripped, muscles large and strong, the man could lift just about anything without any help.

"I need your help, your whole damn crew, as well," Derek said, and Noah raised his brows. "I need some work done, and I need it done fast."

"How fast?" Noah asked skeptically.

"By Valentine's Day."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is the final chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has read this! This is technically the first ever romance story in general I've written, so thanks to everyone who supported it!**

"What do you mean we're being laid off?" Spencer had asked Delilah. She was on the phone with him, she sounded just as upset as he felt.

"I mean all of us, tall stuff," she told him with a sad groan. "I mean, I get pay still. Worked my life at this place, I'll be damned if I don't at least get that much. But you...I'm sorry, Spencer."

Spencer sat down on his bed. "I can handle the lack of pay for awhile, it's no issue, I can get some work someplace else for awhile, I'm certain of it. But...do you know why?"

Delilah snorted, as though Spencer had just asked the stupidest question in the entire universe. "Why do you think? They're either fixin' up the place to sell, selling it as is, or are taking a wrecking ball to it." Spencer froze where he sat. "Time to say goodbye to that place, Spencer."

"It...they might not do that," Spencer said in denial. He tightened his hands on the plain white comforter that was originally tucked neatly around his mattress. The soft texture suddenly felt as though it was sandpaper. "Maybe he's fixing it up for business."

"Please," Delilah said in disbelief. "Oh, Spencer, oh dear Spencer," she repeated his name sadly. "I've known the owner for a long time, we go way back, I practically run his damn business. Trust me when I say, he's probably not hiring anyone to fix that place up. If so? He'd tell me."

"But…" Spencer could barely talk. It felt as though his throat had swelled shut. He should _not _be so emotional over the possibility of some old diner shutting down, but he was. "It's home."

He heard Delilah suck in a gust of air, then release it. "Oh honey," she said sadly. "I know it is. I'm so sorry." She then paused, and when she spoke again, she even sounded a little choked up, "It's mine, as well."

"Delilah I…" Spencer paused, unable to think of what on earth to say. What on earth he could possibly say? It felt like his home, but it practically was Delilah's. "I don't know what to do."

"We'll work something out, kiddo," Delilah assured him, she sucked in a gust of breath. "I mean, we're not fired. If it gets a new owner, we might be brought back. It all depends."

"Nothing is ever set in stone," Spencer said. He then paused. "Well, until it is."

Delilah laughed. "No kidding," she agreed. "Look, kiddo, let's not get down in the dumps, alright? Not until we know. You're a young dashing genius, you'll get some temporary work until we set this whole thing straight."

"Dashing?" Spencer quoted in disbelief. "That's a new one."

"Think I heard a certain muscle man say it once or twice," Delilah fired back at him, and Spencer flushed.

"Wait, how will we get Derek food?" Spencer asked anxiously.

"He's got a good amount of money in his pocket, Spencer. He's worked some pretty wealthy jobs, gotten lucky. Probably has more than any of us. He'll be alright. Besides, dinner at my house tomorrow night. 7:00 sharp. Don't be late."

Spencer smiled. "You've got it."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Without working in the diner, things seemed worlds different. Derek had some project, that he wasn't telling Spencer much about, the diner had the windows covered so Spencer couldn't even see inside to see what was happening, Delilah hadn't a clue, and it made the months that passed seem stranger than before.

Well, most things. Despite Derek being quiet about his newest project, things with him were still...great. It was the only word he could think to describe it. He would stay nights over in Derek's motel room, to the point where he even had clothes stored in it, just in case.

Derek had opened up to him, said he trusted him, had invited him into a part of his life, and Spencer had done the same. It was like something out of a romance novel, he could barely even believe it was his life.

They still went out on dates, and would have awkward dinners at Delilah's place. She would cook them food, she and Derek would flirt, Derek would then turn and flirt with him, and they made quite the odd pairing. But it was...nice. A different, weird, abnormal type of nice, but still.

"So," Derek begun one day as they rest in bed together. Spencer's head was on his chest, and Derek was stroking through his hair, massaging his scalp as he went. It was a relaxed evening, and Spencer had no plan of leaving the motel that night. "If I told you I have a surprise coming for you, what would your response be?"

"That it's not a surprise if you tell me about it," Spencer replied with a small grin. Derek gave him a small thump on the back of his head for his efforts. "Ow! No need for violence! My response would be that I don't want a surprise, and to not spend too much money."

"Mhm," Derek hummed thoughtfully. "Would it be, now?" Spencer nodded. "You do realize most of our relationship is built off of me surprising you, right?"

"I surprised you first," Spencer shot back.

"Ah yes, when you attacked me with your lips," Derek recalled teasingly, and Spencer whacked him in the stomach lightly. "Oof, what was that about violence again?"

"It was a peck," Spencer grumbled in response, and Derek just chuckled. Spencer had really grown sick of Derek constantly taunting him with the fact that he had made the first move. "Don't make me regret it," he teased back, and Derek just eyed him.

"Please. How could you regret getting a piece of this?" Derek gestured to himself, and Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Keep talking, and it'll get easier."

Derek just laughed, continued to run his hand through Spencer's hair, which in turn made Spencer damn near melt into the gesture. It was one of his favorite things Derek did.

"So, what was that about surprises?" Spencer asked, he knew there must have been a reason Derek brought it up.

"I have a bit of a surprise planned for you," Derek admitted, and Spencer looked at him skeptically. "For Valentine's Day." Spencer's look became one of surprise, and he was almost positive his eyes lit up. He'd never had a Valentine's Day that was actually...well...anything good.

"You know, statistics show that cards are actually the most common gift given on Valentine's Day," Spencer informed Derek, and tried to keep any excitement out of his voice. "The, uh, average annual amount people spend on Valentine's Day combined is $13.19 billion."

"Is that so?" Derek asked with evident amusement, and smiled at Spencer. "Good to know. Anyway, I have a bit of a surprise for you planned for Valentine's Day. Now, all I need from you are two things, pretty boy."

"What are they?" Spencer asked.

"To drive here, and afterwards, to give me your keys," Derek explained, and both of Spencer's eyebrows shot up.

"You want to drive my car?" He asked Derek, stunned. "Um, Derek Morgan, I'm not letting you drive."

"Now, now, now, that is an awful spirit for someone I plan to surprise," Derek reprimanded, and Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I need to drive you there. Trust me, it'll be worth it."

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "Where exactly are you taking me?"

"A place that will no longer be a surprise if I tell you about it," Derek answered, and Spencer groaned. He buried his head into Derek's chest, and felt it rumble with witheld laughter. "Come on, I rock at surprises, you just have to trust me."

"You know I trust you, I would just much prefer to know exactly what these plans are," Spencer replied honestly. "I mean, should I dress a certain way?"

"The way you always dress is fine, believe me," Derek answered, and picked at the sleeve of Spencer's buttondown shirt. It was purple, checkerboarded. Purple was Spencer's favorite color, and Derek had said before he was no fashion expert, but that he liked Spencer in it. "You don't have to worry about a single thing, alright? It's all handled."

"That's both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time," Spencer responded honestly, and Derek laughed again. Spencer played with the material of his red shirt, tugged at some loose strings. It was a bad habit, and he was pretty sure he was going to end up ruining Derek's clothes. "So Valentine's Day, huh?"

"Yeah, Valentine's Day," Derek said, almost mockingly. Spencer grinned. "What? You don't trust my romantic instincts?"

"I trust your romantic instincts entirely I've just…" He trailed off, and finally shrugged his shoulders. "I've just never celebrated Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, I started noticing a running theme when it came to holidays," Derek acknowledged, almost sadly. "Well, I guess there's just a first time for everything."

"Yeah," Spencer agreed, and trailed his fingers up and down Derek's chest. "I guess there is."

~.~.~.~.~.

Derek Morgan rarely paced anxiously for anything in his entire life, and he never would have imagined he'd be pacing anxiously over something as simple as a Valentine's Day date...but everything had to be perfect.

~.~.~.~.~.

Spencer sighed as he knocked on Derek's motel door. The number was half fallen off, and the blue paint on it was peeling. It was too bad, too. The motel itself wasn't awful, but it didn't take care of the outer appearance as well as it should have. That fact alone almost made it remind Spencer of the diner.

The very thought of the diner made Spencer's heart ache. He had no idea what was happening to it, but the more and more time that passed, the more and more he doubted he'd ever return to it.

The motel room door opened to reveal Derek, who smiled pleasantly at him. Though, Spencer could have sworn he saw some nervousness in his gaze, but he convinced himself he had to be imagining it.

"Hey," Derek greeted him with his signature grin. He leaned up against the doorframe slightly, left shoulder smooshed against the splintering wood. "Right on time, as always."

"Some of us like to be punctual," Spencer quipped in return. He often would mock Derek for the fact that the man was commonly late to places. He had no idea what on earth took him so long. It took Derek all of ten minutes to even get ready in the morning. His money was on the obscene amount of pushups and sit-ups the man did every day, no matter how much Spencer enjoyed him doing them in his presence.

"Is that so?" Derek asked with amusement. He then just simply held out his hand, a smug smile on his face. "Keys," he demanded.

Spencer frowned deeply, but finally, stuck his hand in his pocket to slowly retrieve the keys to his car. He looked at Derek skeptically as he slowly set them in the other man's palm. "I'm not sure I like this surprise so far."

Derek chuckled, walked full out of the motel room, and shut the door tight behind him. "Just trust me, kid. You're going to _love _it."

"Just don't crash my car," Spencer warned him as he followed Derek through the parking lot. He was happy to see the man was dressed casually, which meant that they weren't going anywhere fancy. While his birthday surprise had been fantastic, he'd felt mildly out of place and underdressed. "Or get me a speeding ticket."

"I promise, your car will be in once piece, and there will be no tickets of any kind," Derek said as they slowly approached Spencer's car. Derek, naturally, held the passenger side door open for him, which in turn had made Spencer roll his eyes.

"Ever the gentleman," he said dryly, and got into the car. He'd heard Derek chuckle briefly before the door was shut.

Once Derek got in, Spencer continued to just stare at him nervously as he started the car up. It started smoothly and instantly, the model Spencer was driving was a tad bit old, but Spencer tried to make sure that it ran well. He had a fondness for cars.

Spencer attempted to relax, to remove his eyes from Derek, to settle back into the polyester seat; but it was hard when his seat belt was wrapped almost too tightly around him. He felt as though it was pressing down far too deep into his skin.

Derek's laugh brought Spencer's attention back to him. "Sorry, but you look more like an inmate on death row than you do a man about to go on a date," Derek said to him, which in turn made Spencer flush.

"I would be a lot more relaxed if I knew where we were going," Spencer huffed in slight aggravation as he watched the road for any hint of a clue.

"Just trust me," Derek told him, and Spencer side-eyed him. "I'm serious," Derek continued. "You're going to love this."

"This better not be clubbing," Spencer muttered, to which Derek responded with a snort of disbelief.

"Yes, Spencer, you're spot on. I'm taking you clubbing. In the daytime. On Valentine's day. As a surprise date for you," Derek said dryly, Spencer just shrugged. "I can promise you, it's not clubbing."

"Does it have anything to do with music or dance?" Spencer questioned.

"Oh, so now you want to play twenty questions?" Derek asked in amusement, and exasperation.

"I just want to get an idea of what I'm getting myself into," Spencer explained. "That's all."

"Fine, but all I'll say is this, and don't you dare try to ask for anything more." Derek had one finger pointed at him in a warning.

"First off, both hands on wheel, second off, I agree to your terms and conditions," Spencer said.

Derek rolled his eyes and put both hands on the car wheel, he even made a show of it when he smacked his palm down onto it. "Fine. Okay, it has nothing to do with dancing, singing, or anything that should make you uncomfortable, alright? You don't have to be nervous. This isn't going to be about forcing you to do anything you don't want to do."

Spencer continued to eye Derek warily, but eventually nodded his head. "Okay," he said. "I'll try to calm myself down. So long as you don't make me dance, I should survive today."

"So you'll stop being skeptical?" Derek inquired hopefully.

"Oh no, I'm still skeptical," Spencer responded. Derek groaned, he tossed his head back against the seat in exasperation. "I'm just saying my chances of survival have shot up pleasantly well." He then side-eyed Derek. "Also, drive a little slower. Statistics show that an average of 80 people are killed in U.S. roads each day."

"You know, saying that only makes me want to go faster," Derek replied.

"Telling you the number of car fatalities, that we could very well join, makes you want to drive faster?" Spencer asked in astonishment. "I take back what I said. I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die," Derek said.

"Did you know in 1970 there were 52,627 fatal car crashes?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, well, believe it or not, this isn't 1970," Derek said to him, almost bordering on condescending. "I'm also a very careful driver."

"I could drive better with my feet," Spencer shot back, and Derek sent him a look. "See? You're even taking your eyes off the road," Spencer taunted, and Derek rolled his eyes.

"You did that on purpose."

"It was a test, and you failed," Spencer replied primly, he couldn't resist the smile that slowly spread on his face.

"You know, I plan this great romantic surprise date, and you're just in the passenger seat mouthing off and ridiculing me," Derek said. "It hurts a guy's feelings."

"20%," Spencer replied simply, and Derek side eyed him with complete confusion.

"Pardon?"

"20% of fatalities happen to the passenger," Spencer explained, then he proceeded to watch as Derek's head thumped back against the seat once more, and he shook his head.

"You know what? Fine. I'll drive a little slower," Derek relented. "But only because I don't want my passenger to be in that 20%," he said, a fleeting look cast Spencer's way. "This whole wrapped around your finger thing is really starting to suck."

"I think it's working out fine," Spencer replied back happily.

~.~.~.~.~

"Okay…" Spencer trailed off as he looked at his surroundings once Derek parked the car. "I'm going to admit it, I didn't expect us to park here." The area was an...odd area to park in. It was right near what looked like a giant hill. What on earth they were doing there was anyone's guess.

"You said you didn't want to do dancing," Derek reminded him, he smiled as he unbuckled his own seatbelt. "You said nothing about climbing."

"Climbing?" Spencer asked warily as he continued to look upwards. Derek chuckled beside him, and that was when Spencer felt a warm palm grip his thigh, he looked back at Derek to see the man smiling reassuringly at him. "Trust me, Spencer." He winked. "Once you get up there? It's worth it."

Spencer let out a gust of air and looked around at his surroundings. "Fine. But since we're doing stuff outside you should really be glad we're in a place where seasons never change."

"I'll thank God for it," Derek replied, he then reluctantly, at least it felt like it was reluctantly, released Spencer's thigh. "Don't worry, I promise you'll love this."

~.~.~.~.~.

The climb wasn't bad, at all. It was surprisingly quick, in fact. Derek talked to him the entire time, he told him all types of odd stories. Some made Spencer laugh, others made him cringe.

When they got to the top Spencer expected a few things, one was to suddenly develop an insane fear of heights, and run away as fast as he possibly could, but what he didn't expect, at all, was to see that in front of a beautiful view, was a checkerboard picnic blanket, with a basket rest right on top of it.

"Thought I'd return the favor," Derek said, one hand on Spencer's back, the warm seeped in through his layers of clothing, but all of Spencer's attention was on the basket.

"How long ago did you set this up?" Spencer asked. Despite the sweet gesture, he couldn't help but think of just how long the food had been left there.

"Not long. While we were walking up, and I was expertly distracting you." Spencer frowned deeply. "Other people made their way down. Thank Delilah and Larry for this, I called myself in some reinforcements."

"Delilah and Larry helped you with this?" Spencer asked, stunned. He hadn't even heard much of Larry since everyone had been laid off from the diner.

"I worked the charm," Derek drawled, he continued to grin at Spencer. "Don't worry, all the food should be fine. I figured food seems to be a common theme for us, and you always seemed to be delivering it to me, so now I'm delivering it to you," Derek explained, and Spencer just continued to look in surprise.

"The view is gorgeous," he said. "You can see everything."

"Not everything," Derek corrected, one arm slowly, almost hesitantly, wrapped around Spencer's waist. "But you can see a lot. I figured, for someone who remembers everything, I might as well give you something beautiful to remember. This hill is such an easy walk and everything, too. I found it when I first came here. It's not too high, but it's high enough, and it's breathtaking."

"It's perfect," Spencer told Derek, and turned his head away from the view to look at the man. He slowly pressed their lips together. Sweet. Chaste. Meaningful. "It's perfect," he repeated as they pulled away.

"I'm glad," Derek responded, and smiled, as he reached up to cup one of Spencer's cheeks. Spencer leaned into the warmth, and once again leaned in just a little to peck Derek's lips. "Mmm...attacking me with your lips again, I see."

"Shut up," Spencer said. "You love my lips."

"I love you," Derek confessed, and Spencer was positive his heart stopped beating for just a moment. His whole body stiffened, and he looked Derek in the eyes, searched them for any sign of it being another slip. Any sign that Derek would take it back a moment later. But he didn't find anything, and Derek didn't take it back.

"I love you, too," Spencer said.

"Do you now?" Derek asked with a grin, but his eyes betrayed his more carefree words. He then reached for one of Spencer's hands, and brought it to his lips. "Then let's eat."

~.~.~.~.~.

Derek would owe Delilah and Larry for the rest of the days that he roamed the earth. Seriously, all the food was perfect, it was fresh, it was Spencer's favorites, and every single time he looked at him he saw a huge smile on his face.

They sat on top of the picnic blanket, one of Derek's arms wrapped around Spencer's shoulders, the basket in front of them, and a beautiful view before them. Different homes, trees, just...beauty.

"It's weird," Spencer mused out loud, and Derek turned his head from the view to look at him again. "I remember everything I see, yet I don't go sightseeing often enough."

"You look at books more than you look at beauty," Derek responded with a small smile. He turned his face in the direction of the sun so he could feel the heat on his skin. It was actually...pleasant out. He'd heard some people in the area still complain of it being too cold, but from where he was from, the weather he was experiencing was summer.

"Books are beauty," Spencer corrected him, and Derek just chuckled. "They're also knowledge, and they're stories, and they're a part of me," Spencer continued to explain. He shifted slightly, to get more comfortable, and continued to look straight ahead at the scenery. "When I was a kid they were just about all I had. I had books, and notebooks. Like I said, my Mom was a professor of fifteenth century literature. She believes." A small smile spread on his face. "She believes there are adventures at every turn."

"What do you believe?" Derek asked.

"I believe that I got a job at a run-down diner, met a drifter, fell in love with said drifter, and am now sitting atop of a hill having a picnic with the drifter." Spencer shot him a look, Derek had to laugh. When it was explained like that, it all sounded almost absurd.

"I guess that qualifies as an adventure. Not quite Bilbo Baggins level, but still," Derek said, then frowned when Spencer looked at him in astonishment. "What?"

"Did you just make a Hobbit reference?" Spencer asked. Derek rolled his eyes then shook his head. "The Derek Morgan just made a Hobbit reference."

"The Dere-since when am I _the _Derek Morgan?" Derek asked. At Spencer's continuing smile, Derek rolled his eyes. "Alright, so I've read the Hobbit. Like you haven't."

"I've read it thirteen times," Spencer replied simply, and Derek just chuckled, of course he had.

"If you have an eidetic memory couldn't you just recite it to yourself?" Derek asked.

"I like to hold the book," Spencer explained. "The texture adds to the experience, as does the smell."

"Sarah always liked the smell of old books," Derek recalled. "I told her she was crazy." He then smiled at Spencer, who laughed. He absentmindedly picked at the grass next to the blanket, he would roll some of the blades in between his fingertips, then flick it.

"I like your sister already," Spencer told him, a smile still on his face.

"Hmm." Derek hummed in amusement. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine."

Spencer looked at him in shock. "Y-You think we'll meet at some point?"

"At some point," Derek confirmed, and Spencer smiled at him so brightly that it was almost as blinding as the sun. "Think your Mom would like me?" Spencer frowned at that. "Ouch."

"No, I'm sure she'll like you! I just...I've written her about you...but I've left out a key part," Spencer explained slowly, he looked at Derek almost with guilt.

"Spencer, you do know I'm not offended over the fact that you haven't written your Mom a letter telling her you've been dating a strange drifter that wandered into a diner, right?" Derek asked. "I mean, that is usually the type of thing better explained in person. ...Or at least over the phone."

Spencer looked relieved, he then leaned into his side a little bit more. The warmth radiated off of him, and felt comforting up against Derek. "I wonder sometimes if she hates me for only writing her letters."

"I can just about guarantee you she doesn't hate you," Derek assured him, then he wrapped his arm tighter around Spencer. "Just like how I'm pretty sure my Mama doesn't hate me. When I finally get home I'm going to get yelled at so much I'm pretty sure my eardrums will burst, but she doesn't hate me."

"Perforation of the eardrum is usually caused by either chronic or acute infection of the middle ear, it's usually related to an infection of the nose and throat," Spencer explained automatically, and Derek snorted.

"It amazes me how you can fit so much up there," Derek said, then tapped Spencer's head, Spencer shied away from the touch, but just ended up leaning into the arm Derek still had wrapped around him.

"Do you have any idea how powerful the mind is?" Spencer asked.

"Do you?" Derek returned.

"Nobody does," Spencer answered honestly. "The mind...the brain, is an incredible thing."

"Especially yours," Derek said.

Spencer looked away, once again he almost seemed shy. "I'm...smart. I know that. I've been told that my entire life. But I'm not better than anyone else. Not me, nor my mind. Everyone is incredible, some people just don't know it."

"You're one of them," Derek responded. "One of the people that doesn't know it, anyway."

"So are you," Spencer said.

Derek shook his head and laughed. "You ever heard me talk, kid? I know I'm great."

Spencer laughed back, but shook his own head in response. "You are great, but I don't think you know it. Talking and believing are two totally different things."

"You're getting a little too deep on me, you know that right?" Derek asked, and Spencer whacked him in the chest. "Ow! Now we're back to violence!"

Spencer just laughed, and continued to look at the view. "A picnic on top of a hill," Spencer mused out loud. "Probably the last thing I would have expected.

"Better than dancing, though, right?" Derek joked, he jostled Spencer a little.

Spencer scoffed. "Anything in the world is better than dancing, at least for me, anyway."

"You got two left feet?" Derek asked with a grin as he imagined Spencer Reid dancing. Even the thought of it was a bit awkward.

"No, just a left one and a right one, neither of which have any rhythm," Spencer answered, and smiled back at Derek, his fingers now grazed over the blanket. "What about you? Are you a good dancer?"

"I'm no professional," Derek admitted, he ran his hand up and down Spencer's back, which made the man lean in closer to his side. "But I have a bit of a groove thing going on," Derek admitted with a wink.

Spencer groaned, then proceeded to shake his head in disbelief, he also let out a small, involuntary, chuckle. "Sometimes you say the most ridiculous things," he told him.

"Okay, I say the most ridiculous, but you say the nerdiest," Derek shot back at him, then chuckled when Spencer pushed on his chest a little. Mainly with his insanely long fingers that for some reason Derek found himself fond of. "What? We balance each other."

Spencer just shook his head, but continued to look at the view. He took a deep breath in, as though he was savoring every single second they spent up there...which just made Derek happier and happier, because it meant he'd picked the right scene for the date. He'd gone back and forth on it. Wondered if Spencer would even enjoy something as simplistic as a picnic when he used to bring Derek food all the time. But the view…

"This view is so gorgeous," Spencer said, as though he could read Derek's mind. "Why haven't you shown me it yet?"

"Because I wanted to save it for something special," Derek answered. "Like this."

"I'm starting to get the hype that surrounds Valentine's Day," Spencer informed him, he continued to poke and pick at the picnic blanket. "Before I thought it was just a way to make other people feel bad. In high school, everyone always had a valentine. They'd trade corsages, things like that." His expression darkened for a moment. "Things that just made students like me feel bad."

Derek thought about that for a moment, thought back to all of his Valentine's Days. He'd never had a particular fondness for the day. He'd celebrate it, but it was never a big deal. Nothing to ever get excited over. "Well, I've had plenty of Valentines," he begun. "But trust me when I say this, I've never done anything like this with a single one of them."

"Top of hill picnics are just saved for me, huh?" Spencer asked with a whisper of a smile.

"No one else," Derek agreed.

"Who was your first ever Valentine?" Spencer inquired, and Derek wondered why on earth he decided to go down that road.

"Please, kid, my first was when I was like, eight," Derek replied. Spencer let out a bark of a laugh. "What?! I was a kid! There was a cute girl, a day of romance, things happened."

"At eight?!"

"Yes, I was quite the romantic, too, I picked her flowers from a neighbor's garden, and made a card out of cardboard for her," Derek explained, he smiled at the memory of his little eight year old self handing her stolen flowers and a godawful card he'd spent thirty minutes making with his sister's art supplies.

"Why did you make the card out of cardboard?" Spencer inquired. "Why not use paper?"

"Because CARD CARDboard," Derek explained. Spencer looked at him like he was a total idiot. "Did I mention I was eight?"

"You must have been a cute kid," Spencer said, still smiling.

"I was known to bed quite adorable, yes," Derek confirmed, Spencer then laughed in response. "What about you? You must have been adorable."

"Picture an itty bitty little kid carrying around books for grades way ahead of him, wearing glasses much too large for his face, dressed up in khakis, not to mention a dress shirt, who has a vocabulary that much exceeds his age," Spencer described.

"So...I should just shrink you?" Derek asked, and Spencer let out another bark of a laugh.

"I used to tell teachers I wanted to work for the FBI when I got older. One literally gave me a pat on the head and said, and I quote, 'You do that, little fella.' It was humiliating."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven, I think," Spencer replied, which made Derek crack up. "I was very serious about it!"

"A tiny little eleven year old genius with giant glasses walks up to me and tells me he wants to be an FBI agent when he's all done growing," Derek mused, smile still on his face as he looked at Spencer. "I think my heart would melt."

"I was going for the more serious and determined vibe," Spencer responded with a weak glare, obviously he wasn't as offended as he played at. "Nothing like saying your dreams and having people laugh."

"Well, hey, for what it's worth I think you can do it," Derek admitted. "I mean, the FBI could use a genius."

"The mere thought of it used to nearly give my Mom a heart attack," Spencer recalled. "She doesn't like the thought of me having my life at risk."

"Well, I will say this, you're going to be chasing criminals with a gun, yet you're freaked out by merely being in a car with me," Derek quipped dryly. He gripped Spencer's hand before it got a chance to once again lightly whack him in the chance. "Nuh-uh, not this time."

"Last year there were 35,244 fatal car crashes," Spencer informed him seriously. "That's quite a number of fatality, and I would prefer not to be added to the number this year." He paused for a moment, contemplative. "Not to mention that 31% of traffic fatalities happen because of speeding, and you drive abominably fast."

"You do realize that I'm pretty sure FBI gets into car chases, right?" Derek asked, then squeezed Spencer closer to him as he teased him. "Sharp turns, questionable cutoffs, the whole nine yards."

"...Did you know more than ten people a year are killed by a vending machine?" Spencer asked suddenly, which in turn made Derek's brow furrow.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Derek asked.

"If left alone, 70% of birthmarks gradually fade away," Spencer continued.

"Did I break you?"

"Seaweed can grow up to 12 inches per day." Now the little brat was just enjoying himself, Derek noticed. Spencer's eyes were lit up, his lips were desperately trying to twitch up, and when he wasn't talking his lips were pressed together so hard they turned a milky white.

"I broke you."

"On average 100 people choke to death on on ballpoint pens each-mmf!" Derek cut Spencer off with a kiss. A long, passionate, kiss.

Spencer's lips were as soft as ever, and tasted of cranberries, which made sense considering he'd eaten a sandwich with cranberry bread. The taste itself was a little too sweet and bitter for Derek's taste, at least in a sandwich, anyway, but on Spencer, it seemed to taste delicious.

"Who attacks who with their lips?" Spencer asked after Derek pulled away.

"Fixed you," Derek simply replied.

Spencer laughed, then pressed his lips into Derek's again. The taste of cranberry once again resumed, and Derek wrapped his arms tighter around Spencer. The kiss was absolutely perfect.

Once they pulled away, Derek took in some breaths as he attempted to resume a regular breathing pattern. "You do," he said.

Spencer's brow crinkled, and he cocked his head to the side like a confused dog. "Huh?"

"You asked who attacks who with their lips; you do," Derek explained, and Spencer, once again, whacked him lightly in the chest. "You're also very violent!"

~.~.~.~.~.~.

They had sat up on the hill for a long time. They talked, they put the food back in the basket, and they would also just sit and look at the scenery. Look at the breeze as it blew the blades of grass, as it would just barely lift up the blanket.

They even watched the sunset together. Watched as the beautiful colors took over the sky. It was one of the most beautiful things Derek had ever seen. That, and Spencer's face as he watched it. Wonderment wasn't quite the right word, nor was joy, perhaps amazement? Appreciation? All types of words mixed into one.

But then, even though it was one of the most beautiful sights, Spencer turned away from it, and they kissed once again. It was like some scene from a cheesy movie. The sunset behind them as they sat atop of a hill, checkerboard blanket beneath them, basket set to the side, their lips locked in a firm kiss.

But it wasn't a movie, it was real; and it was one of the best moments of Derek's life.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

It was the morning of the very next day that Derek slowly shut his motel room door. His duffle was slung over one shoulder, and he took a moment to really inspect the door. He'd opened and closed the door a lot of times over the months. The motel room wasn't home, but he'd grown accustomed to it. Accustomed to the flicker of the TV, the drip of the shower, the crickets that had kept him up many nights, the bed he'd rest upon with Spencer at his side, the table where the kid would study, all of it.

He let his fingers slowly drag over the number that hung on the door. It was loose, ready to fall off. He then let his finger's go to the door itself. Feel the blue paint about to chip, it was so old that for all he knew it might still have lead in it.

"You're leaving." Derek spun around quickly, the voice nearly threw him completely off guard. Once he'd spun around, he was faced with Spencer, only about a foot away from where he stood, dressed as well as always, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

"What tipped you off?" Derek asked. He knew Spencer didn't just come to the realization because of the duffle. He'd shown up because he had known.

"Yesterday was too perfect," Spencer replied, it was obvious he was trying to keep his voice unreadable, his emotions in check. "It wasn't just Valentine's Day, it was a way of saying goodbye. Although." He let out a bitter laugh. "Never took you as the type to be a coward enough not to actually _say _it."

"I didn't say it," Derek begun calmly, and started to approach Spencer, who took an instinctive step back. "Because this isn't goodbye."

Spencer finally met his eye, he stared at him with his own perplexed ones. Derek took another step close to him, that time, Spencer didn't move away.

"This isn't goodbye, Spencer. That's the reason I didn't say it. I'm not saying goodbye, because this isn't the last time I plan to see you," Derek explained. Spencer continued to watch him, weary. "I need to continue to travel, I've gone too far to stop, but I didn't lie about a damn thing I said yesterday. I do love you." He saw Spencer blink back tears, and felt them start to filter into his own vision. "I do plan for you to meet my sisters, my Mama, and I expect for them to adore you. But I can't stop yet. I can't stop, but I will be back." Derek paused, just stared at Spencer, he tried to uncover the hidden emotions behind the expressionless face.

"Larry said to me months ago how I wasn't what you were searching for." Derek shut his eyes for a moment, even though Spencer didn't say the words with hurt, nor did he say them with anger, they still had stung. "I know that's true. I know that no matter how much you love someone it won't magically cure everything. You've sacrificed your entire life to go out in search of something that I think I'm finally starting to understand." Spencer sucked in a deep breath. "You're in search for yourself. You said you pick up pieces of who you are everywhere you go. You don't feel like you're whole, and I can't make you whole. In some cases, love can conquer all, but this isn't one of them. _You _have to find yourself. I can't do it for you. I understand that. But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Spencer said earnestly.

"I never wanted to hurt you, kid," Derek said with just as much earnest as Spencer had used when he'd previously spoken. "Never. But you're right, you can't fix me, only I can do that. I can't be with someone until I'm whole again, Spencer, I just can't. It's not you, hell, it's probably not even me, it's just the way things are. But I promise you, and pay attention because I have never once lied to you, I promise that I will be back." He kept eye contact with Spencer for every single word, the kid deserved it. He deserved Derek to be candid, to speak with total honesty. "I know I can't ask you to wait for me," he admitted. "That would be cruel-."

"Nobody else is lining up," Spencer cut him off, a sad smile on his face.

"Trust me, there will be people who will. Who will see everything I saw; and if you love one of them? Then be with them," Derek said, and Spencer frowned. "I'll still come back, and when I do I'll take whatever I can get. I'll never stop loving you."

"God," Spencer said, he swiped a hand over the bottom of his face. "This would be _so _much easier if you were a giant jerk who has been lying to me for months. Instead, you're a nice man... with a lot of issues."

"Nice man with a lot of issues, huh?" Derek asked with amusement. "Not the worst thing I've ever been called."

"You know that whole thing of 'If you love someone you need to set them free'?" Spencer quoted. "I really hate that."

"Yeah." Derek sighed. "Me too."

There was a long silence, a lull in the conversation; Derek felt his heart thump painfully in his chest as he tried to control his emotions, his breathing, everything. It should never had been as hard as it was. But he'd fallen in love. Like he'd told Spencer, he was never in the agenda.

"So no goodbye, huh?" Spencer asked, and Derek shook his head in the negative. "Derek, I love you." Derek blinked back the flooding behind his eyes. "I'll always love you. No matter where you are, or how messed up you are. I know this whole thing isn't about you not feeling like you deserve people, if it was I would fight you more on this, but if you ever do feel that way just know I love you, and I love you because you've earned it." Spencer shuddered and gasped, Derek had to stop himself from reaching out to him. There they were, making a scene in the middle of a motel parking lot. "I'll always love you, though, I might have to join your Mom and sisters when they kick your ass."

"You always did have a thing for violence," Derek quipped.

"Shut up," Spencer said, he walked closer to him, put both arms around his neck, and kissed him.

They kissed for a long time, yet not nearly long enough. When they pulled away, Spencer asked, "Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"No," Derek answered with a sad smile. He brought a hand up to stroke Spencer's hair. "I walked into here, I'll walk out of here."

Spencer nodded, a tear ran down his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Derek responded immediately, he tried to hold back his own tears.

"I'll see you soon." Spencer paused. "Or, at least someday."

"Someday," Derek agreed, then he leaned in to kiss Spencer once more.

He didn't look back as he walked away. It was always worse if you looked back.

~.~.~.~.

Spencer stood in the parking lot for a long time. His heart had felt as though it had been crushed to bits. Derek had been gone from home for years, who knew how long it'd be before he came back?

His phone rang, and he'd had the strong urge to ignore the awful tune supplied by the company. But finally dragged it out of his pocket and accepted the call before he even looked at who it was.

"Spencer?" Delilah asked immediately, before Spencer could say a word, and she didn't even give him a moment to respond. "Get your skinny ass down to the diner."

~.~.~.~.~

Tons of ideas of all the things that could have gone wrong flashed like a horrible montage through Spencer's mind as he made his way to the door of the diner. He hadn't bothered to look to see if the windows were still boarded up or not, it didn't matter. All that mattered was for all he knew he was showing up to be told he was officially fired.

What he hadn't expected was to walk into the diner, and see Delilah with a smile on her face, and mascara tracks down her cheeks, Larry looking damn near like he was about to weep himself, and all of the workers in a similar state. They were the first thing he noticed, the second thing damn near knocked him on his ass.

The whole inside of the diner had been fixed up. New floors, new counters, new stools, new booths, the walls were no longer an ugly mustard color, the tables were a bright shining silver color with not a single dent on them, and it all looked completely and utterly gorgeous.

"We're not fired," Delilah told him tearfully. "He got...he got work done on the place, Spencer. This is our new home!"

"Oh my God," Spencer said in shock, he felt his hand go up to cover his mouth. "It's...it's perfect."

"No kidding!" Larry agreed, he was trying to toughen up his exterior after the brief show of emotion. "How the hell did they get all this done so fast?"

Spencer didn't know why, but he instinctively looked towards his and Derek's booth. The booth they had always sat at ever since Derek wandered his way into the diner. There was a note left on the table.

"_Spencer" _The envelope read in Derek's handwriting.

Spencer approached the table, and slowly picked it up. He felt as though every single employee had their eyes on him as he opened it up, and pulled out the letter inside.

"_Spencer,_

_If I know you well enough, which I'm pretty sure I do, you've already figured out that I was leaving, and went to see me. Now, you're either really pissed at me, which I'd understand, or you hate me, which I'd also understand, or you forgive me, which I thank you dearly for. Either way, this was the last part of my Valentine's Day present. A bit late, but only by a day. I know a guy, Noah, he helped me rush this whole thing together. Now, obviously this isn't Extreme Makeover, so there's still tons that needs to get done, so people might be coming in and out for awhile, and I've got some buddies stopping by to do the outside. _

_I paid for a lot of this. I think the owner of this thing still doesn't get why I put so much money into fixing up his diner. But don't worry about me, I've got more in my pocket now than I did when I strolled into here the first day we met. I've gotten lucky with jobs here, kid, and I didn't need all the money. I've never carried more than I've needed. _

_This place is amazing. It's a home away from homes, but no one would give it the time of day, because in their mind appearance is everything. You've given me a lot these past few months, Spencer. You deserve this. All of you. You deserve the customers, the better working atmosphere, for this place to be as good as it possibly can be. _

_I love you, with all my heart, and in case you haven't gotten it through your genius mind yet, this is not a goodbye._

_-Derek." _

Spencer's shoulders had shaken, and he once again had the hand that hadn't held the letter in held over his mouth.

"The stallion?" Delilah asked. She stood behind him. Spencer knew she hadn't read the letter, but Delilah knew. Delilah always knew.

"The stallion," Spencer confirmed tearfully. "He's gone. He's coming back, but he's gone, and this was all him."

"Well, he did a damn nice thing," Delilah said as she looked around. "Walls are a bit empty, but I got some things at home that might spruce the place up a bit."

A realization suddenly dawned upon Spencer, and he folded the letter up to put it back in its envelope. "I'll be right back," he told Delilah, and rushed out of the diner.

~.~.~.~.~.

Derek sat on the train. His duffle at his feet, his gaze fixed out the window. He couldn't help it, but a small smile had come onto his features.

Because he knew one day he'd be back, and by that point, he'd be a whole man.

~.~.~.~.

What had Spencer gone to get? A watercolor painting that he'd framed. Two people who held hands as they looked out a window at all the beauty that had surrounded him. A painting Derek had gotten him on their first date, that then hung on the wall of the diner. Something Spencer intended to stay there until the place one day either got sold, or wrecked down.

It was a painting of two people in love.


End file.
